


Say You'll Remember Me

by Kufikiria



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Multichapters Fic, Post-Jail Time, Romance, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kufikiria/pseuds/Kufikiria
Summary: Jake should have known the minute he walked free out of jail to only see Gina waiting for him with an apologetic look on her face that something was wrong.Never would have he imagined something that terrible happening, though – that the end of his nightmare in prison would directly be followed by another one. A much, much bigger one.Suddenly having been a cannibal's cellmate for the past three months didn't seem that terrible anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! :D
> 
> Here I am, posting my first ever Peraltiago multichapters fanfic, and I must admit, I'm really excited about finally being able to share it with y'all, after writing and re-writing this chapter way too many times. So excited even, that I didn't take the time to ask someone else to proofread it, so now I just hope there won't be too many mistakes... Anyway, I don't really know how quickly I'll post the new chapters, I hope as quickly as possible, but with university coming back on Monday, I can't promise anything. I already started to write chapter 2 though, and know what I want to put inside, so that's a start.
> 
> As the summary already explains it, this fic takes place right after Jake and Rosa are finally proven innocent and can go free out of prison. There's one thing divergent from the series though, and it's that Amy and Teddy's first encounter happened before she started working for the Nine-Nine, and that they dated for realz, just not a few dates. They were a real thing – that's important to note that. Also, I'm unfortunately no expert in anything medical and/or police-related, so I apologise in advance for the possible inaccuracies. I try to make some research of course, but it's always hard to understand how everything works, especially in a country where I don't actually live myself. I just hope the whole thing will stay plausible and will make sense.
> 
> Anyways, enough talking, I hope you'll enjoy this! (Title is from "Wildest Dreams" by Taylor Swift if you didn't recognise.)

Jake is sitting rather uncomfortably on the same chair he's been for the past 48 hours and has refused to leave for more than five minutes ever since he's been allowed in the room. Everything around him is quiet – _too_ quiet, even. The only hearing sound is the regular and constant _bip_ of the machine by the tiny bed's side where the love of his life is currently and unconsciously lying on.

And, even though the noise is quite irritating, he has to admit that, he still considers it the best he's heard in his whole life, right now (well, maybe not the _best_ – nothing will ever beat Amy's laugh at his silly jokes – _this_ is the best noise he'll ever hear, and presently prays to hear again soon) because it means _hope_. It means she hasn't given up on fighting yet, that she's still _alive_.

He knows she's out of danger. He has known for some time, actually, from the moment doctors came to him in the waiting room of the hospital after what they called a successful surgery and finally let him go see her after hours of wondering. She was pale, she was stuck in deep sleep, she had bruises all over her covered body and her seemingly peaceful face, but she would be _well_.

He's been repeated those same reassuring words a bunch of times since, as an attempt to make him leave her side and have some _real_ rest of his own, not just a few hours of sleep here and there on this uncomfortable chair he claimed as his from the moment he entered the room. She will wake up, nurses said – _promised_ – as they came several times a day to make sure nothing was going wrong with their patient, just not _right now_. It'll take at least one day or two, maybe more, surely not less, before she does.

Of couse those speeches didn't make him move an inch from where he was sitting.

And it _won't_ make him move, no matter what people (read: his squad, the medical staff of the hospital) can come up with to make him do so. Not until she _does_ open her eyes.

Because despite everything he's been told for the past 48 hours by these professionals who surely know better about their work than himself, there's still a part of him, some part he tries not to listen to but still manages to linger in the back of mind anyway, that is afraid that maybe, just _maybe_ , he won't see her beautiful brown eyes look back at him ever again – nor hear her beautiful laugh echo to his ears ever again. This simple, though quite horrible, thought is enough to make him sick to his stomack and, as weirdly as it can sound, the only thing capable to calm him down in those moments when he loses it is hearing the regular _bip_ of the woman's pulse monitor.

That can be understandable then, that he doesn't want to leave there, even for just a few hours.

Another reason to it is that he also wants himself to be the first thing she'll see when she wakes up. He would literally _hate_ it if I'd miss that moment.

He wants to be there for her, to _hold_ her, to whisper into her ear that everything's going to be alright from now on.

That the worst is behind them – she's well, she's alive and _awake_ and he will never _ever_ leave her side again because thanks to her and her amazing detective skills Rosa and he have been discharged of all accusations against them and are free people again – and it's all that matters. They'll get through whatever the repercussions of all this fuss will be. _Together_.

He wants to be able to tell _himself_ that as well, because he needs some reassurance too, after all that happened to him those past three months.

(Those past three days.)

It all started with a trial, with a “guilty of all charges”, with way too many “cools” he's ever said in the space of just a few seconds (he still doesn't know how he managed to let the repeated word out like this, but that's a new skill to add to his list for sure), with a last glance to his girlfriend, who looked as shocked and depressed as he was through coming tears, with the attempt at a reassuring smile towards her, with Rosa and he being transferred to their respective new “homes”.

He thought it'd all ended with a jailor coming to his cell on an early fall morning, startling him awake, telling him the good news – he'd been proven innoncent, Hawkins had been arrested, and thus he was free to go home –, urging him to hurry while he was frozen in shock, afraid that all of this was only a joke, a dream, not something _real_ (he already knew that moment was yet to come though, because he'd seen Amy and Charles just a week ago, who told him about a lead they'd been following for awhile now, both positive that this time was the right one, that they'd soon be able to take their adversary down). He thought it'd all end with him quickly saying goodbye to his cellmate, whom he kind of made friends with in the three months he'd spent there, and who seemed really happy to see Jake's story in prison finally have it's well-deserved happy ending.

“Go find your girl,” he told him in return to his farewell, a weird, kind of psychotic smile on his face that only made Jake nod back to his winking, mixed feelings of excitation to be reunited with his girlfriend _for realz_ after having only seen each other during visiting periods and a bit of disgust remembering that his cellmate was a cannibal who once told him, after getting a glimpse of Amy during one of her visits, that she was _delisciously beautiful_ running down his spine. But excitation quickly took over the rest of his emotions with any new step that took him closer and closer to the exit of this hell of a place, only stopping once for him to get his stuff back, sign a few papers, and be able to get rid of his jail attire, changing into his actual clothes, now fully ready to reach the outside-world, and to go back to his life as a free and _good_ detective.

He should have known better, though. He should have guessed this couldn't be _it_ , the moment when his whole world was finally coming back to its axis.

That, on the contrary, it marked the moment when it would completely get turned upside town.

He didn't realise that right away, as the jailor left him in front of the building, letting the door shut in a loud thump behind him and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of freedom. Of course it wasn't the first time since he got incarcerated that he was seeing the sun again but it still felt as if he was _really_ breathing again for the first time in ages. That he was _living_ again, too.

This warm feeling didn't linger long in his body, though. Because as soon as he opened his eyes again, the first thing he spotted was a single person waiting for him, looking back at him with an apologetic look on her face, hands caressing her now widely-visible baby bump to help her keep some composure. Gina Linetti was all alone in front of him.

He should have known, then, at that exact moment, that something was wrong. It wasn't normal that she was the only person from the squad that came to greet him. That _she_ , of all people, wasn't there to be the first one to greet him as she promised she would be – and Amy Santiago wasn't one to break promises, mostly not such important ones.

Except… except when she had no other choice than not being there.

(Except when she was held hostage in some secluded part of Brooklyn because of _him_ , because she tried too hard to prove him innocent so that they could be reunited sooner.)

(He didn't know that yet, though.)

That's why, when he finally reached one of his oldest friend's side, he didn't even take time to say hello, to ask her how she'd been doing, to tell her how much he'd missed her during those months, and only let the question that was repeating itself in his mind from the moment he led eyes on her, and her _alone_ , spill out.

“Where's Amy? Where is everyone?”

A pause followed this interrogation. It was a rare sight, Gina out of words, but she presently was – she didn't know how to tell him the truth without breaking his heart. But there wasn't any “smooth” way of telling him what happened anyway, so she just ended up telling him, reaching for his hand in a gentle touch, “there has been… there has been some kind of problem…”

“What kind of problem?!” he immediately snapped back as anxiety started to take over his whole body at hearing her answer – Amy was in trouble, he could sense that.

“Amy, she's…” she soon confirmed his fears for his girlfriend. She took a deep breath, then added, “she's been… kidnapped… by Hawkins's men. But –…”

But Jake wasn't listening anymore what she had to explain to him, the words _kidnapped_ and _Hawkins_ repeating themselves over and over in his mind, his teeth gritting and his hands clenching into fists with every new second passing, his nails scratching at his skin without even realising it – without even _caring_ for it. Even when he thought he had finally gotten rid of her, that they'd beaten her, she still managed to make a mess out of his life. To go after him was one thing. But to go after _Amy_ … she better not have hurt her, he swore to himself.

He should have seen that coming, though. They all should have. It wasn't like it was the first time she would go after someone else's loved one when feeling threatened to be unmasked.

“Jake!” Gina made him come back to the reality of the moment with both her hands on his shoulders, shaking him out of his trance. “Jake,” she repeated in a gentler voice when she saw that he was listening to her again, “look.”

She threw her phones in his hands, and he looked down at the screen in slight curiosity. There was a new text message from Charles, sent only a few seconds ago. _We got her, Gina_ , it read. _WE GOT HER! I won't lie, she seems pretty badly injured and she's unconscious, but she's still breathing. She's_ alive _. Ambulances are here and taking her to Brooklyn Hospital Center right now. We're following behind. Join us there as soon as you get Jake with you. Pimento and Rosa are already on their way, Terry called them earlier._

After that, everything is just a blur in Jake's mind. He barely remembers giving the ginger woman her phone back and running towards her car, letting her drive them to the hospital where Amy was getting transferred, praying as he tapped his leg in a nervous twitch that she would be fine. He would never be able to forgive himself if it wasn't the case…

He barely remembers meeting with his colleagues in the waiting room, Charle's tight hug when he saw him rushing inside, being reunited with Rosa for the first time in three whole months, and Holt's update on the situation – all he remembers is that no one seemed to have a clue of what Amy had been through during the almost 24 hours she'd been taken hostage.

He barely remembers his boss's speech, trying to remind him of how strong his girlfriend is, and telling him that without her, without the risks she took, Rosa and he would still be in jail in that moment. Maybe that was true. But _she_ would have been safe and sound, on the other end, not stuck in surgery with her life on the line.

Fifteen years in prison were absolutely nothing in comparison to a lifetime without her by his side, then. He would gladly go back if it meant she would be _okay_.

Suddenly though, he's taken out of his depressive memories by the feeling of a grip tightening, if just a little, if just for a second, on the hand he's had locked with Amy's the moment he entered the room and sat on his chair, never letting go of it for more than a few minutes ever since. And, as he looks down to their enlaced fingers, he perceives the young woman's arm move a bit under his.

And even though he's been informed before that it's something that can happen sometimes, that he shouldn't read too much into it, he can't stop his heart from beating faster and faster, and his hopes of finally seeing her open her eyes go up too.

It only increases when he looks up to her face, and _swears_ he sees her blink twice.

“Amy?” he calls her name then, his voice shaking a little with excitation he can't seem to hide. “Amy, can you hear me? Are you waking up?”

He waits, but she doesn't answer anything, nor does she move again either.

He doesn't give up yet, though – only gets closer to her, and starts caressing her cheek ternderly. “Ames,” he whispers one more time, _pleading_ this time, staying alert of every possible move she makes, “please, come back to us. Come back to _me_ …”

He's on the verge of crying, he can feel it, but now's not the time for it. So he doesn't let the tears fall as he continues talking to her. It kind of soothes him, to do so.

“You did it, Ames,” he informs her. “You got us free. And everything's gonna be alright from now on, I promise. I'll… I'll take you to Paris, if you still wanna go there. I'll take you wherever you want to go, even places Jason Bourne hasn't driven a car down some stairs. All you have to do is open your eyes. Come on, babe. I know you can do it. I… I miss you. I _need_ you,” his voice breaks on his last sentence.

This time, he can't retain his tears any longer. Even more so when, once the room is quiet again, _it_ eventually happens. She turns her head, ever so slightly, so that it now rests against Jake's hand that he put on her face just awhile ago. She blinks one more time, too. _And another._ A sound goes out of her mouth as well, though inaudible.

It's like her whole body is coming back from her long sleep now.

Jake watches her in a religious silence, waiting, _longing_ , holding his breath until she manages to do it. _She opens her eyes completely_ and this simple move of her eyelids makes him feel like a huge weight has been taken out of his chest the minute he meets her gaze. Her _oh so beautiful_ gaze he's missed _oh so much_.

Looking at her with her looking back at him doesn't soothe him as much as he thought it would, though. On the contrary, a strange feeling starts taking over his heart while they stay like this, staring at each other in complete silence. There's something reflecting in her newly wide-opened orbs that he's never seen there before – or not thrown towards him, anyway. And that's odd.

Because she seems lost, as she watches him in fear, as if he's some sort of a threat to her.

“Ames,” he tries to take her small, cold hand between his own fingers, attempting a tender smile in her direction, to make her understand that she's safe now, that she has nothing to be afraid of anymore, that her nightmare has come to an end – _their_ nightmare has come to an end, but she soon takes it back from his gentle grip. “Are you alright?” he asks then, worry coming back to his core in a rush of wild panic.

 _Idiot_ , he reprimands himself, regrettig his choice of words quite immediately. Of course she's not alright. How could she be? She's just woken up from a 2-day coma after being held hostage and having to live through God knows what hell she had to live through, after all.

“Do you need anything? I can call the doctors,” he tries again.

That's the first thing he should have done – call the doctors, tell them she was waking up. He knows that. But he was so lost in the moment, so eager to finally see her open her eyes, that he didn't really think about it. He didn't really think about anything else. But maybe he should have. Maybe it would have lessened the shock of the words that would escape her mouth after that.

Maybe they would have been able to tell him right away that it was something that could happen, and that he shouldn't worry too much about it, because things would go back to normal soon.

_(Normally.)_

Because he's clearly not prepared for it, when she eventually manages to talk, and tells him, fear still widely there in her brown orbs as she tries to get the further away she can from his touch, the further away she can from _him_ , “who… who are you?!”

“Who am I?” he repeats, confused. “Babe, you know who I am. It's me, Jake – your boyfriend,” he says. “You don't have to be scared about anything, you're safe here, we took the bad guys down, they can't hurt you anymore,” he tries to keep as even a voice as he can while he speaks, despite his breaking heart and the panic starting to attack his brain with every new reaction of pure fright of the woman in front of him.

Indeed, his words do nothing to calm her down. On the contrary, they only seem to increase her anxiety, a bit more with each new explanation he gives her.

“My boyfriend?!” she asks in disbelief after awhile spent in complete and stressing silence. “You're… you're not my boyfriend, I don't even _know_ you!” she snaps in a very shocked tone. “Teddy's my boyfriend. Where is he? I want to see him. And what about these 'bad guys' who can't hurt me anymore? Where am I? What do you want from me? What is going on here?!”

She almost yells her last question as she feels the panic attack strike her, her breathings getting shorter and shorter with any new gulp of air she tries to take, her eyes scanning the whole room over and over in search of an answer, in search of something, _someone_ familiar to keep it together and not completely lose it in front of this guy that is telling her things about herself she doesn't seem to know.

Does't seem to _remember_.

It's easy for Jake to recognise she's on the verge of breaking down – it's not the first time he's seen her like this – but for the first time in what seems forever, he doesn't know how to help her come back from her panic attack as he's always managed to do one way or another before, because he feels like he's going to break down too. Because he doesn't know what's going on either.

Why she seems to not remember him, and live in another universe where she's still in a relationship with her ex-boyfriend.

He's so lost in his own hurtful thoughts again, he doesn't even hear the _bips_ of her pulse monitor beeping faster and faster, nor does he see nurses come rushing inside – not until they take him away from the room, away from _her_ because it appears _he_ is the one who caused Amy to have a panic attack, and now they have to calm her down before her heart decides to simply give up.

He _hurt_ her, and that simple fact destroys him in the inside.

He's helpless, watching her from the other side of the window as she circles her knees with her hands and starts rocking herself back and forth, still attempting to find an even breathing as the nurses put a mask in front of her mouth. A tear finds its way down his cheek, soon followed by another, and plenty of others, making his vision blurry in an instant, as he witnesses a woman inject what he supposes are some sedatives in his girlfriend's drip.

To think that no more than three days ago, he was leaving his cell with a huge grin on his face, ready to _go find his girl_ as his cellmate told him to just before they parted, ready to leave his nightmare behind as he would go back to his _happy_ life with a job he loves and surrounded by his friends and _her_.

But now it only appears that finally, the nightmare hasn't ended _at all_ – in fact, it's just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well okay, I'll admit it, this is quite an angsty chapter to begin with haha. But I promise, even though yes, this fic will be full of angst, it'll also have it's well-deserved happy ending and some fluffy moments! Hope you liked it, don't hesitate to let me know what you thought of it please :3
> 
> And if you want, you can come find me on Tumblr @b99peraltiago!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for the people who left kudos on this or commented it, that really means a lot! :3
> 
> I'll try to keep this rhythm – one chapter per week, or every two weeks – as much as I can, but I can't promise I'll actually be able to do it. Chapter 3 isn't written yet but I know what I'll put inside, so...
> 
> Also I've decided not to have this story proofread by someone else so that I can post the chapters quicker, as soon as I've finished proofreading them myself, but if you feel like I should because there are too many mistakes or anything (if you don't know that, English isn't my mother tongue) I can try and ask someone else better at English to do it for me :) Just tell me if you want to.

“Mr. Peralta?”

Jake, who hasn't moved an inch from the front of his girlfriend's hospital room since he got taken out of it, some last few tears still runing down his rosy cheeks, is suddenly startled out of his trance by one of the nurses in charge of Amy's care calling his name. Quickly, he removes the salty pearls off his face with the back of his hand not to appear too vulnerable in front of her before leaving his staring gaze from the other detective's now sleeping body to face his interlocutor. He only takes a second to study her, then spills the question that has been burning his tongue for the past minutes.

“What is happening to her? She didn't recognise me! I thought she was gonna be fine. _You_ told me she was gonna be fine!” he accuses. He knows he shouldn't let his fears gain over him like this, that it's surely not this poor woman's fault if Amy doesn't seem to be that well after all, but he can't help it – he's full of anxiety right now, and needs answers.

He needs to be reassured about her health and the consequences of what she had been through.

“She _is_ fine, indeed,” the nurse affirms him as she puts an hand on his shoulder as a way to emphasise her words. As she does so, she leads him away from where they're standing, in the middle of the corridor, towards another empty room so that they can be alone, and in a quieter place, to talk about her patient. Jake is about to protest at first – he doesn't want to be away from Amy even for just a second, and especially not now –, but he finally decides not to complain about it and follows the other woman inside.

If he wants to know what's precisely happening to his girlfriend, he doesn't have any other choice than simply cooperate.

“Your partner lived through a very traumatic even, Mr. Peralta –” the explanation starts as soon as they're both settled, “– first being held hostage, then with whatever her agressors did to her. So, even though I can attest to you again that she's out of danger and that she'll recover without any physical consequences, you have to understand that not everything would go back to normal with her waking up. She's been found unconscious, and has been in a coma for two days. It's only logical then that she felt a little bit shaken up when she first woke up in some place she didn't know, and that she didn't remember some things. I'm sure as soon as a doctor goes and explain to her what happened when she wakes up again this time, it'll all go better, now that we gave her something to help her calm down.”

 _A little bit?_ he thinks as she finishes her speech. _Some_ thing?

She didn't remember _him_ , for God's sake – nothing near just _a little bit_!

He doesn't tell her that, though. He doesn't want (doesn't have the energy either anyway) to make a scene right now. All he wants is to be able to take Amy in his arms, without her freaking out and telling him that he's definitively _not_ her boyfriend, because she doesn't know who he is.

It's been so long since the last time it happened, between prison and now _this_ . He hasn't even got the chance to go back to his – _their shared_ – apartement since he walked free out of jail.

As he pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers as an attempt to say calm, and recolt all the information that's been given to him, a yawn unexpectedly escapes his mouth. He's so tired of all this.

“Why don't you go have some rest while she's asleep?” the nurse sees him, and then asks, concern in her voice detectable. “We'll call you the minute she's awake and ready to see people. Promise.”

Jake looks up, and stares at her in silence for a few moments. He seems hesitant, but finally simply requests, “can I just… stay in the waiting room, please? I don't really wanna leave.”

He doesn't really want to go back home _alone_ . He doesn't really want to leave _her_ alone either.

“As you wish,” the woman shrugs, feeling that she won't be able to make him change his mind whatever she can say – she didn't suceed the past three days already.

So she simply shows him the way to the waiting room, before going back to taking care of her other patients. He sits there, then, surrounded by silence again as no one is in there with him, and he lets his thoughts take over his mind once more as he sighs in defeat and tries to patiently wait, praying for things to only go better from now on. It couldn't really be worse anyway.

At least, that's the case for awhile, until he hears someone rush into the room. And, before he can look up to see who this new arrival can be, he's trapped against another body, with two arms encircling him in a tight embrace. “Jakey!” Charles – because who else than Charles can react in such a way when he sees him? – exclaims as he leans even more into the hug. “We've been told Amy woke up? How is she, why aren't you with her? Oh my God, is everything okay?!” he asks more seriously this time when he lets go to face him, watching his friend carefully and eventually noticing the desperation in his red from having cried too much and slept too less eyes.

That's how Jake is able to see that Holt is there too, when he's free from his colleague's arms. The man is standing a few inches away from the both of them, staring at them with the same undescriptible expression he always wears on his face. The detective keeps his gaze onto him as he reveals everything, just as the rest of their squad arrives in the room as well. “She's fine, yeah,” he starts, repeating the words her nurse told him not so long ago to calm him down, “she just… didn't recognise me right away when she woke up, she was really confused, didn't remember about what happened to her and thought she was still in a relationship with Teddy. So she panicked, and they gave her some sedatives – and now she's back to sleep. I'll be told when she wakes up again and I can see her.”

He looks down after that, unable to meet the other's surely pitiful orbs staring back at him. “That sucks,” he hears Rosa's voice exclaim, then a hand comes to encircle his shoulders in comfort.

“We're here for you, Jakey, it'll be alright,” his best friend is the one to speak, which makes him look up again and notice his boss, along with all the others, nod in agreement to Charle's statement.

He feels some warmth take over the anxiety in his heart. Having all his colleagues here with him is very soothing, more than he would have thought. From the moment he walked free, he didn't really have time to think about it because of everything that happened and because only Amy was in his mind, but now that they're all reunited, he realises how much he's missed them by his side.

Which he doesn't wait to let them know about, as he thanks them for everything they did for him – for never stopping to fight for Rosa and his freedom, and everything that came after.

“We've missed you too,” his captain is suprisingly the one to answer him, a small smile lighting his usually still features.

* * *

 

Amy barely remembers the first time she woke up that day. For her, everything feels like a dream – a very, _very_ bad dream. Everything is blurry in her mind, full of inaudible voices and unrecognisable faces.

Or at least, almost everything. Because there's this image of a man that doesn't seem to want to leave her thoughts.

She can picture him rather clearly, with his beard and his brown hair and brown eyes looking full of concern at her as she finally managed to open hers and he was the first thing she saw. She can hear him quite clearly as well – him calling her name several times with worry (and  _care_ , which was the weirdest part of it all, as she had never seem him before), then telling her all those things she couldn't understand.

_I'm your boyfriend._

_We took the bad guys down, they can't hurt you anymore._

It's no surprise she started to panic, then. Last thing she knew, she was falling asleep in Teddy's – her _actual_ boyfriend – arms, and now she wakes up and is told by a complete stranger that her boyfriend isn't her boyfriend but another is – and she doesn't even know him! –, and apparently some “bad guys” did her some harm – or wanted to, at least? That's completely insane.

With all these thoughts and wonders rushing through her head, added to the realisation that she actually was in an hospital and her whole body hurt and she couldn't understand _why_ , her breaths started become shorter and shorter with any new passing second, and soon all she remembers is passing out… again.

Only to come back to the present time, with her now (and for good) wide awake, feeling oddly way calmer than she was the first time she opened her eyes in this hospital room. But she's alone this time, it's the first thing she notices as she quickly looks around – there's no sign of the stranger anywhere near her anymore, and she can't help but feel a little bit relieved that he finally left.

He really did stress her out, to be honest, with his weird revelations about a life that just can't be hers.

She doesn't stay alone long, though, nor does she have time to think about what happened too much because a nurse first enters the room soon after she's opened her eyes. “Oh, you've woken up!” she seems surprised to see Amy actually staring back at her when she looks up from the file she has in her hands. “Are you feeling better now?” she gently asks, and the detective only nods slightly in return.

She does feel better, yeah, but not quite good yet.

She can't be, _won't_ be – not before she's told what happened to her, and who was  _really_ this guy who pretended to be her boyfriend.

“Well, I'll let your doctor know you're awake so that he can come tell you everything as he examines you,” the nurse excuses herself with an apologetic look when Amy says all her fears out loud, and the brunette immediately understands that if she can't explain it herself, it's because it's something bad and very serious. A rush of anxiety starts to run down her spine at this thought, but she tries to stay calm nonetheless.

For a few minutes she's surrounding by silence again as the nurse left the room, until a new person comes inside, a man in a white blouse this time. He's about her age, she inspects him, with an angelic face covered by blonde hair – her doctor, she guesses. Something he soon confirms when he comes to her side and lets out his hand for her to shake. “Hi, I'm Doctor Robert Chase, the surgeon that operated on you.”

( _Australian,_ her mind registers his accent when he opens his mouth to talk.)

“Why?” she lets out her first question as she takes his hand in hers. “Why am I here? What happened?”

“We… don't know the details,” he admits. “Your colleagues found you unconscious, and in a pretty bad state as they took you here – broken bones, concussion… – but none of them were actually able to tell us what really happened, because they weren't there. So… we thought you would be able to tell us. Don't you remember anything about that?”

“I – I don't…”

There's a pause then, during which Dr. Chase studies her intently without saying anything, lost deep in his thoughts. His gaze is piercing right through her core, and it makes her feel uncomfortable. She senses like panic is going to take control of her body once again, but she fights against it. She can't break down, not now. Not before she know what she has. How serious it is.

(Because it _is_ serious, she can tell.)

He eventually takes out a light from his pocket, and starts examining her eyes. “What is the last thing you remember, then?” he tries as he works, making her follow the light, one eye at a time.

“I was having a nice night out with my boyfriend…” she begins her story.

“Oh, so you remember him, now?” he cuts her off, relief noticeable in his voice.

“Of course I do. Why wouldn't I remember him? He's my boyfriend.”

“Because you told him you didn't know him when you first wake up and saw him by your side,” her doctor explains, his brow frownings at her answer.

“The man who was in the room earlier?” she asks, confused. “He's – he's not my boyfriend… I've never seen him before in my entire life, and it was supposed to be my next question – who is he, and why was he here?! Why did he tell me that?”

Something's off here, the physician realises then. He knows for a fact that this man, this dective, _is_ indeed her boyfriend – he checked that already. So how would she not know him? Why wouldn't she remember him? He might have an idea, though. That's why he searches for a confirmation to his theory, requesting from her, “can you tell me what day we are today, please?”

“I – I don't really know,” the woman shamefully acknowledges. “I kind of lost track of it.”

“Only what year, then, maybe?” he insists.

She only thinks for a few seconds, before she replies, “2009, why?”

That's it. She's apparently amnesiac. It shouldn't be too much of a surprise, though – he's seen enough as a doctor to know that's something that could happen in her case, given what she's been through – both physically and mentally. Now he just hopes that's temporary, and that she'll recover all of her memory as soon as possible. In the meantime, he has to let her know the bad news.

“Well… You've been hurt pretty bad – your head hurt pretty bad, mostly, and even if you don't remember that, being held hostage must have been quite a traumatic experience for you…” he begins his explanatory speech in the softest tone he can manage as he doesn't want to scare her into a wild panic attack once more with the truth he's about to spill on her –

She's forgotten about almost a decade of her life.

* * *

 

“Mr. Peralta?”

For the second time that day, a few hours after Amy's nurse first came to update him about her state, another person calls him – a man, this time, he sees him as he turns his attention away from Rosa to the opened door of the waiting room. His other colleagues have already left, and thus for awhile – they had work to do, after all. Which Rosa didn't, since the two detectives still had to wait a few days before being able to be rehabilitated again. Something Jake would have been pissed about in other conditions, but felt quite thankful for right now, because it means he's able to stay in the hospital as long as he wants.

To stay near Amy as long as he wants.

“That's me,” he answers the other man as he stands up, and walks towards him, trying to hide his trembling hands when he shakes one with his. This man's a doctor, he spots the card on his white coat, where his whole name and profession are written: _Dr. Robert Chase_ , he reads. Surely his girlfriend's doctor, the one who's been taking care of her for this whole time. “How is she?” he asks, then.

He doesn't have to precise who the _she_ is to be understood.

“She's… awake,” named Doctor Chase carefully answers, and Jake senses that something is wrong by the tone of his voice. A 'but' is yet to come, he's sure.

As worry starts taking over him at the realisation, he gives a quick glance back to his colleague, who's still seated in the background, to seek some comfort. It doesn't really help when he notices that she seems to have the same feeling too, impatiently waiting for the physician to go on with what he has to say, so that they can be fixed once and for all.

“But,” (here it goes,) “it seems that she still doesn't remember you,” he spills out without further warning. He knows there is no nice way to announce this anyway. “In fact, she thinks we're back in 2009.”

“Wh – what?!” both the detectives voices exclaim in one.

“But don't worry, it something that can happen in her case,” he tries to reassure them with a smile that doesn't look too real. “She's been hurt pretty bad, and her head wasn't spared in the process. Plus there's the emotional trauma she's been through that has to be taken into account – her mind can have decided to erase everything to preserve herself, along with the damage her wounds caused. It's not irreversible, though. We've run some further tests on her, and the results show that there's a good chance that her memory will be back after some time of recovering from all she went through.”

“ _A good chance?!_ ” is all Jake manages to reply, his ears now burning with all the information he's received from this speech. Some terrible, _terrible_ information. “That means there's still a chance she will never remember _anything_ about the last decade?!” he's completely freaking out, now, he can't prevent nor hide it.

“That's a possibility, indeed,” the other man acknowledges, his small smile an apologetic one this time. “But let's not think about the worst yet. It's very rare. And your lady seems like a strong one, we have good reasons to think it won't happen to her, then – I'm sure she'll be alright in the end.”

“He's right,” Rosa speaks for the first time, which startles both men, who turns to look at her. “Amy's tough,” she shrugs, “she'll get through it. We'll all be here to help her. She can't forget us like that.”

Those words soothe the dective a little, but not quite enterily. He still has so many questions and worries. “How long will it take for her to remember anything?” he asks.

“It depends on the patient,” Dr. Chase begins his explanation. “Sometimes it only takes a few days, sometimes a few months, and sometimes it can take more time. Unfortunately, there isn't one specific answer to this. The more she's stimulated by her surroundings, the quicker she'll recover, though. I already talked a bit with her about it all, and she agreed with me when I told her that she needed to go back to the life she lost so that it might trigger some memories to her mind. That means, in-between other things… going back to living with you. If you're okay with this? I know it can be weird…”

“Of course I am!” Jake doesn't hesitate one second to reply as he cuts the other off. “But are you sure she's okay with it? I mean, she's the one who doesn't remember me, after all –” he trails off, concerned, and hurt as he has to admit this sad fact.

“What about I take you to her and let the two of you talk about it?” the physician simply proposes as an answer.

Jake nods. He would lie if he'd tell he isn't at least a little bit nervous to see her again, after how she reacted the first time the found themselves alone in that room. But one look at Rosa, who urges him to go with a sign of her head, and he finds himself following the other man through the corridors he's starting to know what too perfectly and into the room, where Amy in lying awake in her tiny bed.

She tries to offer him a smile when she sees him come inside, but he knows better to recognise she's faking it, and only doing so out of pure politeness.

She _does_ seem way calmer than earlier, though, which calms his heart immediately. At least he's not scaring her anymore, even when she still doesn't remember who he is, and that's a good start, he thinks.

“Miss Santiago,” the doctor is the first one to break the awkward silence between them, happily greeting her. “Glad you seem to be rather well. I believe you've already met Mr. Peralta earlier?”

“I did,” she confirms as she keeps her gaze on Jake, her expression something he can't quite decipher. Doctor Chase pushes him forward, as he's frozen in place.

“Remember what I explained to you?”

“Yeah. That I'm suffering from amnesia because of my fall and that my brain erased all memories of some part of my life because of the trauma,” she recites perfectly what she's just been told, and for one second her boyfriend can't help but smile in return, relieved to see that even without a huge part of her memories, she's still the same woman he's fallen so madly in love with inside.

(The woman who loved him too.)

“Good,” Doctor Chase seems satisfied. “Are you okay with me leaving the two of you alone?” he asks her as he stays near the door. She nods as a yes.

“I won't be too far away. If you need anything, just beep.”

Then, with that, he gets out. And, for the first time since he's met her, Jake doesn't know what to tell his girlfriend as he stands looking at her. She invites him to seat next to him, though, so he obliges. He doesn't get too close, afraid he'll invide her personal space too much. He feels so awkward in this situation, it hurts. He can hardly look at her when he finally manages to speak after clearing his throat.

“I – I'm sorry I freaked you out earlier,” he starts, eyes stuck on the floor. “I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” she answers. “It's not your fault. _I_ am sorry I reacted this way too. I just…”

“You just didn't know who I am, yeah, I'm aware of that one,” he cuts her off, too bitterly for his own liking, but he can't help it. The injured woman doesn't retort anything.

There's another pause, and Jake starts thinking that this is it – this is how their relationship is going to look like from now on. No more jokes and smiles and laughs and _love_ – only awkward silences.

“So… you're my boyfriend, right?” Amy suprises him when she talks again, and it actually makes him finally look back at her. She seems really curious to learn more about her story – _their_ story, as she goes on with her questions. “How long have we been together? What happened to Teddy? Did I… break up with him? Or did he?”

“Yeah, I'm your boyfriend,” he replies to her initial question with a nostalgic rictus, as he remembers how it all started between them – undercover as Johnny and Dora.

(Well, it started way earlier than that, even, if he's honest with himself.)

“We've been dating for more two years now, but we've known each other for almost eight. As for Teddy, I think I remember you telling that it was more of a mutual agreement. You broke up because you couldn't see each other enough, the first time,” he explains.

“The first time? There were _several_ times?” she seems shocked.

“Yeah…” he trails off, sighing. It'll be quite a long story to tell her. But he'll gladly tell her all, and with wild details, if it means it'll help her remember.

That's why he decides to begin with where her mind stopped: her arrival at the Nine-Nine. The day his world turned upside down in the best way possible, without him realising it right away, of course.

He's halfway through his description of each member of their squad when he spots her trembling hand that she tries her best to hide under the covers. He immediately stops in his track then, and he just has to give a look at her pale face to understand that something's wrong again.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he watches her carefully.

“I'm sorry, I – it's just… it's too much information,” she confesses, ashamed. “It freaks me out a bit, to learn about this all at once. I really don't remember none of these people and I…”

“Hey, it's okay,” he puts his hand on hers to make her look up at him again, and hopefully this time she doesn't try to take it off. “You'll be alright, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes for it.”

She offers him a shy smile, then – it may be small, but it's _true_ , this time, and that's enough to put some warmth into Jake's heart again. “Thank you,” she answers as she squeezes his fingers between hers.

She truly wishes he's right. She truly wishes that this odd and oh so terrible feeling of not knowing anything anymore about her actual life will leave her core soon enough. But even weirder than this feeling in her chest, she somehow believes him, when he tells her that. There's a voice at the back of her head that claims she can trust him. That he'll indeed have her back.

Just as he's always had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter made sense, as I'm still not an expert in medical stuff haha. I tried to get some info from The Vows, since the same thing happens there, to keep it plausible.
> 
> Also here appeared the first cameo, for those who didn't recognise him: Doctor Robert Chase, from House M.D., half of one of my first OTP back from the time when I didn't even know what this word was! Tbh this fic is kind of a treat to myself, where I make characters from some of my favourite shows interact in the same world haha. I'm really excited about two in particular that will appear later and have some importance :')
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked it, and come find me on Tumblr @b99peraltiago if you want :3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be so much longer than it actually is, I decided to cut it in two, so that you have this one now, and later the other part, not to make you wait too much. But the good thing is that I already have a part of next chapter written, then!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you'll like this one, and thanks a lot to those who put kudos on this or leave comments, or even only take time to read it, that means a lot :D

“Are you sure that's what you wanna do, sweetheart?”

It's been a few days since Amy woke up, and now that she's feeling better and hasn't shown any sign of physical relapse since then, she's free to leave the hospital for good – even though she still doesn't seem to remember anything about her life from her arrival at the Nine-Nine onwards. Her parents, who came to New-York City the quicker they could after hearing what happened to their beloved daughter, are in the room with her, helping her pack the few things she has here.

“Yes, I am sure,” she firmly answers her father's question as her mother helps her get dressed so that she doesn't have to move too much – her body still aches a lot. Jake stopped by their apartment earlier that day to bring back some clothes for her to wear. Now, he's waiting for them in the waiting room. He didn't want to disturb while she was with her family, a family he doesn't feel like he belongs to anymore.

(A family he doesn't even know fully, since he'd actually never met her mother before, and her father only once – and he didn't make the best of impressions on him that day.)

“I trust my doctor's view,” Amy goes on making her point. “And if he says that I need to go back to the life I was living before forgetting everything about it to recover my memory more quickly, then I will, even if that means I have to cohabit with a man I feel like I barely know. Plus Jake's been nothing but kind from the beginning, so I don't think I'll be left in bad hands here. And I can handle myself anyway – don't worry about me, Dad, I'll be fine. I promise.”

Victor opens his mouth, ready to argue, but he finally decides to remain silent when he meets her determined gaze. He only steps closer to her then, and tenderly kisses her forehead.

“You're right,” he simply agrees with her, because she is indeed. He might not be totally fond of this Peralta guy, nor does he know him that well either, but if there's one thing he learned from their first encounter, is that the detective loves his daughter with all his heart. He could tell that from miles away, from the moment he saw them interact together for the first time.

(From the moment he picked him up at the airport and started to try and impress him, even.)

(And he also could tell how much in love Amy was with him too, from the way she spoke about him on the phone.)

Plus she's right as well, when she tells him she can take care of herself. He doesn't know someone tougher than his little girl, who has turned into a wonderful woman now.

“I'm sorry, tiger,” he apologises doubting her (but is he really to blame? he's protective of his daughter, and after what happened to her, and is still happening, it's kind of something normal, coming from a father), using the sweet name he's always called her. She takes his hand in hers to reassure him, and only smiles back as an answer.

“There you go,” her mother finally takes the floor after letting the two talk without intervene in their discussion once she's finished with helping Amy. “Shall we go?” she asks her, taking the bag full of the brunette's stuff in her hands and she nods in return, moving towards the door.

She doesn't look back as she leaves the room, and Victor closes behind them. She's ready for a new beginning.

As agreed earlier, they find Jake in the waiting room. He's easy to spot, since there's not a lot of people around him, even with his head down as he appears deeply lost in his thoughts. He looks up at the sound of steps heading in his direction, then stands up quickly when he recognises the Santiagos in front of him. His girlfriend studies him carefully.

He's tired, that's the first thing she notices, from the huge dark bags under his averting eyes – he can't seem to be able to let them rest at one place only, and especially not her or her parents. He's tense, too, with his hand scratching at his skull in a nervous tic. She can't help but feel a little bad for him, seeing him like this. It's kind of her fault, after all.

“Ready?” he's the one who breaks the awkward silence that suddenly fell upon the room as he eventually manages to look at her, and offers her a simple rictus.

It may have been a few days already, but he's still not used to it – to seeing Amy like that, staring back at him with not much in her eyes, like he's a complete stranger to her.

(Which he kind of is anyway.)

It still hurts way too much too. And to be quite honest, he's not sure it'll ever stop hurting someday. He simply wishes so – _prays_ that there will come a day (soon, if that's possible) when she looks at him again with love and passion in her beautiful orbs, just like she did before all this mess started.

“Yep,” she lets him now as she leaves her parents' side to come closer to where he stands, then she shyly adds, “since it's almost time for dinner, I suggested my parents that we all eat together before going to your apartment, if you don't mind, of course?”

 _Our_ apartment, he wants to correct her deep inside, his heart breaking a little at hearing that, but he doesn't do so. “Sure,” he makes do with another answer instead, trying to sound excited by the idea.

He's not, actually. If it were only for him, he would have gone straight home. He's only been there twice since he got out of jail, and he didn't even stay long – just the time for him to change and take some of Amy's stuff to make her stay at the hospital more comfortable, like some of her favourite books or better clothes than the ones she was wearing, stained with blood – _her_ own blood.

It hurt too much, being in there alone. Even more so when, during his first visit, he noticed all the little changes Amy had made there while he was gone, adding pictures of them in the rooms and _Die Hard_ posters and other random things that were so _him_ , surely because it was too much for her as well, being left without him there. But now he's starting to really miss it, and he can't wait to be back.

With the woman he loves finally by his side.

(There's a part of him that tells him he's still gonna miss it when they're back there, though, because his girlfriend isn't really his girlfriend anymore and _she_ is his actual home but he prefers not to think too much about it for now, because he already hurts too much to add some other painful things to hurt about to the list.)

But he also understands why she wouldn't go to the apartment right away. Indeed, even though he's spent the past few days by her side, she still doesn't remember who he is – she still thinks about him as someone she doesn't know that well, and going to be living in a stranger's house can be quite frightening. It's normal then she wants to spend more time with her family around, that's why he of course agrees to her request.

Surprisingly enough, he ends up quite enjoying dinner, finally. Elena Santiago, Amy's mother, shows up to be an adorable woman whom he charmed the minute he introduced himself to her, and she really does her best to make him feel good in the middle of it all. Even Victor tries and makes efforts to be kind to him, knowing that the situation is difficult for him as much as it is for her parents.

But, to be honest, the best part of the evening is to see the other detective being as relaxed as she seems to be during the whole time they remain the three of us.

Surely it's because she's surrounded by people she actually remembers, and loves so much, but she's making jokes and isn't shy around him anymore and that warms up his heart instantly. She even teases him once, something small, but for a second he feels like everything is back to normal again, even though he knows deep inside it's far from being the case yet. He doesn't care about that.

For the first time since he left jail, he's happy. _Truly_ happy.

That's how he finds himself staring lovingly at her as she speaks, sharing stories of her childhood with her parents, a huge grin upon his face that no one, nor anything, will be able to take off in that instant.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last too long after they say goodbye to the Santiagos, and they're back to being alone again at their apartment's entrance. She's fell silent the moment he opened the door and the inside of it appeared in front of their eyes. She hasn't moved since, stuck still, taking in everything that she can see from where she stands. Jake tries to read her expression, but fails.

“Do you want me to make you a tour of it?” he asks then as he starts feeling uncomfortable as well.

“I'd like that, please,” she goes out of her trance, offering him a small smile as she eventually follows him in the main room.

She lets her eyes and hands wander everywhere as they walk past the different rooms and he tells her everything she has to know about them, taking one thing or another in her hands to inspect them sometimes, lost deep in her thoughts. He finishes his visit by the bedroom, and he can actually see her tense as she looks at the double bed with hesitation.

“I'll sleep on the couch,” he immediately tells her – she doesn't have to say what's bothering her for him to understand. “You can have the bed, if that's okay with you.”

She doesn't try to hide the sigh of relief that goes out her mouth as she hears her words. She didn't really think about what 'going back to living her life with her supposed boyfriend' would really imply, but she for sure couldn't see herself sleep in the same bed as someone she (thought) she barely knew, even though it could trigger her memory. It would be way too awkward.

And she's glad Jake seems to think the same. She's not ready to act as if they were still in a relationship when in her mind, she can't even remember they've been in one to begin with.

(When in her mind, she's supposed to be in love with someone else and be in a relationship with _him_.)

“It's all good, yeah, thanks,” she answers.

“Cool. I'll leave you alone then, you must be tired. If you wanna take a shower, or anything… just do, it's your home here as well. And if you need anything, you can always come and ask me.”

She simply nods in return, and lets herself fall onto the bed, so he leaves her alone after taking some of his stuff. He goes straight to the bathroom, then to the couch, where he lays down with a sigh. As he looks around, he notices a picture on the table in front of him, one that wasn't there before he had to leave. It's an image of Amy and him, making weird faces at the camera.

Seeing it is all it takes for tears to start falling down his cheeks, unstoppable. He tried too hard not to break the past few days – he can't contain his pain anymore now.

Not when he's surrounded by reminiscent of a life that doesn't seem to be his anymore – that doesn't seem to be _theirs_ anymore. That makes him feel like he's suffocating.

He's so tired of everything, but still he can't manage to find some sleep that night. He can hear his girlfriend's cries echo with his through the thin walls that separate them in the dark of the apartment, and he feels so bad he can't just go and try and soothe her, because he knows it'll only make things worse. For her, for him, for the both of them…

So he stays there, staring at the ceiling as his own salty pearls wet his face.

* * *

 

The morning after, Jake is woken up by some noise in the kitchen, right behind him. It's still dark outside, and he only has to take a look at this phone to see that it's way too early for him to open his eyes.

He doesn't close them back, though, because he knows that however, this is a time for someone else to usually open her eyes on a day of work – Amy, of course. A guess soon confirmed when he sits up from his laying position on the couch and spots her opening and closing every closet there is in front of her in search of something she apparently isn't able to find, cursing a bit in the process.

She's wearing the same NYPD sweater she always puts on as soon as she leaves the bed and isn't protected by the warmth of the covers around them anymore (by the warmth of his body), and he can't help but smile at the sight. How many times did he find her like this, when he made the dishes the night before and didn't put the things back where they belonged?

It's the closest thing to home and normal he's experienced since he got out of prison, and it feels so good. He spends some time like this, simply watching her lost in his thoughts.

“Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?” Amy eventually senses his gaze on her, and turns to face him, an apologetic rictus appearing on her features as their eyes meet. “I – huh, wanted to make myself some coffee, but I can't find a cup anywhere,” she shamefully explains herself, even though she doesn't have to, something Jake doesn't wait to remind her of.

“Don't apologise to me. This is your home as much as it is mine, you're free to do whatever you want,” he gently tells her as he leaves the couch to join her in the kitchen. He opens a closet then, without any hesitation, and takes a cup out of it. He doesn't hand it to her right away, though – he moves around the room to pour the coffee she's already made inside, then turns to face her again.

They both startle when he finds himself only a few inches from her, stuck between her body and the counter. His heart starts beating faster in his chest at this new proximity between them. It's the closer they've been for a long, long time – since they last hugged before he was sent to prison, in fact, as they weren't allowed to just even touch when she visited him there, always forced to keep some reasonable distance between them.

It's awkward, though. Nothing like what he imagined.

(And he had a _lot_ of time to think about that, in his cell, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall by in tiny bed. About their reunion.)

None of them moves right away. They simply remain like this, staring at each other in complete silence, tension easily palpable all around them. Until Jake eventually is the one who breaks their moment, clearing his throat as he looks away and tries to get rid of the thoughts that are beginning to take control of his head. “Here,” he gives her the cup of coffee.

If they'd stayed like this just a minute longer, with Amy staring so intently at him, he would have done something he would have surely regretted the second he would have done it.

_He would have kissed her._

But he knows he can't. He knows it would screw everything up if he'd tried.

So he forced his gaze away.

“Thank you,” she finds her voice back too, ears and cheeks red with embarrassment.

Again they don't talk for awhile, Amy sipping her coffee slowly while Jake plays with anything he can find on the counter to make him change his mind as he doesn't know what else to do, until the woman notices the huge change in her supposed boyfriend's face, something she surely should have noticed right away.

“You shaved?” she asks in all innocence.

It takes the detective a bit to fully understand her question – he genuinely forgot about this fact – but when he does, he stops in whatever he was doing to instinctively put one of his hands to his chin, touching his now completely clean skin there. He didn't take time to do it before, had other things to wonder about first, but during the night, as he was unable to find sleep, he went to the bathroom to put some water on his face and remove the stains of his tears on it. And, when he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he felt so disgusted about what he saw there that he ended up removing every hair that had grown there during his time in jail.

The man in front of him was too much of a mess, looked too much like a prisoner, and he couldn't stare at him anymore. He wanted to go back to being the Jake everyone knew and loved, before he was accused of some crime he didn't commit.

The Jake Amy knew and loved.

“Yeah,” he finally tells her. “I know you don't remember that, and I know you also told me you liked the beard the first time you saw me with it but I actually couldn't grow one for a long time before and I figured it would be better for you if you were dealing with the 'real' me, the one you used to know best. And, I think… it reminded me too much of prison as well,” he confesses, looking down in shame.

It's the first time he's addressing that part of their life with her. He was too afraid of her reaction before, and it seems he was right to worry about it, as he sees her taking another step back from him as she lets the question out in a shocked tone, “you went to jail?!”

It makes him ache, and ache even more when she adds, “wh – why?!” all stammering.

“I did nothing wrong,” he begins what he knows will be a long and painful explanation with a sigh, wanting to soothe her a bit immediately as he eventually finds the guts to look back up at her. He can see her whole body relax at this simple statement of his, and she seems ready to listen with a lot of calm and interest now. It actually helps him go through the whole story, to see that she doesn't question his words.

That she immediately trusts him when he tells her he was innocent in the whole thing.

He shares everything, then – about Hawkins, about his time in prison, about what she did for Rosa and him to be able to be freed. He doesn't spare any detail as he speaks. Because she still doesn't completely know why she's in this state, why she forgot everything. And she deserves to know, according to him. Even if the doctors told him it might be too much of a shock for her to handle right now if she knew all the details.

It's clear, by the way she's looking at him, that she wants to know _more_. He knows her enough to understand that fact.

“I wasn't actually there, but Charles – my best friend, and one of our colleagues – told me that the both of you were working on a lead to take Hawkins down – a really good lead. But it seems that she was one step ahead of us once again and that she heard about it. So, to make sure you wouldn't get too close to the truth and be able to inculpate her, she got guys to held you hostage. We don't really know what happened there – what they did or told you, but we can only imagine, knowing those people, that they threatened your life or something. Hopefully Charles figured out soon enough that something was wrong for the whole squad to be able to come and find you in time. Then, thanks to that – thanks to _you_ – they were able to innocent Rosa and I from all the charges against us. You literally saved us.”

Once he's done with his speech, he waits for her to react, in some way, in _any_ way. He's nervous as he scrutinises her eyes in search of something, anything inside of them, but she remains quiet, lost deep in her thoughts, for what seems like forever to Jake. He starts thinking it wasn't such a good idea after all, that she's stuck in this state because of him and what he told her.

He's about to call her name when she hopefully lets out some words. Some words that have the power to both break and revive him all at once.

“I guess I really loved you…” she trails off, more of a whisper than a real answer, meant for herself only. But he hears it. And even though the mention of _love_ from her towards him is kind of overwhelming in a good way, the use of the past tense is, on the other hand, the worst. She doesn't love him anymore.

Because she doesn't know who he is anymore.

(That's when he remembers some words Charles told him in the previous days, when the whole squad was reunited at the hospital to see how Amy and he were doing after hearing about the news of her amnesia, since he refused to leave the building and wouldn't meet with his friends if it weren't for them coming to find him.

“There's one good side to this whole terrible situation,” the over-optimistic man said with a huge grin lighting his face, and everyone looked at him with big, shocked eyes when he let the words out.

“Oh yeah? What?!” Jake asked, exasperation easily audible in his voice.

“I'll get to witness her fall in love with you all over again!” he seemed so excited by this – something the other detective would have never think about on his own, to be honest – it actually made him smile a bit too.)

She soon raises her gaze towards him again, with a whole new expression on her face. The kind of expressions she had when they were having dinner with her parents, and she teased him. The kind of expressions that warms his heart in a second. “Well, for what it's worth, I do like it without the beard as well,” she breaks the silence that has fallen upon them.

He didn't know such a small and simple sentence could make him as happy as it actually makes him – to know that she apparently likes something about him.

That's a start, he thinks as he beams back to her.

Unfortunately the moment is then interrupted by the alarm of his phone going off, and he has to leave her side to turn it back. When he comes back to Amy, that's with some non-hidden disappointment and a bit of worry in his voice that he tells her, hesitant, “I… need to prepare for work,” he's barely looking at her, suddenly feeling nervous and unsure. “I'm going back to the precinct today. Is it okay for you if I leave you alone? I'll have my phone with me all the time, should you need anything. In the meantime, feel free to do whatever you please, use whatever you want here. It's all yours as much as it's mine,” he reminds her.

“It's okay,” she reassures him with a true smile – she can't help but find him cute in this instant, trying to make her feel as comfortable as he can. “I understand, work has to come first. But don't worry about me – I can handle myself, I'll be fine,” she repeats the same words she's told her father the day before.

And of course he knows she can. He's worked and lived with her enough to know that surely better than anyone else. But this is different – _she_ is different – and being left alone for the first time when you don't remember a huge part of your life can be tough, even for someone as strong as she is. But one glance at her, and he understands she's truly not bothered by it, so he trusts her, and leaves her to get prepared.

He actually has more time for himself than he usually has when his alarm goes off, since during the time he shared her story with his girlfriend, he had some breakfast (she tried her best not to look too disgusted when she saw a glimpse of his terrible eating habits – if anything, it only made he laugh, though, because it was the same look Amy always gave him anyway, even after two years of being together, and even more working together). He takes this extra time to show her some other useful things he didn't the night before, things she may actually need, then when he's done with everything, he makes sure one more time she doesn't mind him leaving the place.

He doesn't know how he'll react if she indeed changes her mind though, since he doesn't really have a say in his going back to work this morning or not, no matter what happened. He also thinks that it'll actually make him some good, to be back there with his colleagues, and on the field, solving cases again. It'll prevent him from thinking too much about Amy and her mental health.

So he's relieved when she tells him that yes, she's still perfectly okay with her being alone today, and even urges him out since he's going to arrive late if he doesn't stop talking right now.

(He's in fact five minutes early, but it's considered as late for someone like Amy, and it's such a thing she would tell him back when she still had her whole memory, it only makes him leave the apartment with a huge grin on his face. Their first morning back together has been pretty good, he thinks as he drives towards the precinct. Better than every previous day by her side spent at the hospital. They're going to make it, he believes it.)

His smile becomes even wider when he enters the building for the first time in months, and meets with his friends and members of his squad in the room where they're all already waiting for the start of their morning briefing. As he takes a seat beside Charles, who's more than happy to be reunited with his best friend and doesn't wait to let him know about, he quickly turns to Rosa, who gives him a knowing nod: it's good to finally be back here, and being able to put aside their bad time in jail.

There's a feeling of someone missing, though, he soon feels it himself, but no one dares talking about this.

Well, _almost_ no one, to be more precise. Because, as the clueless man he's always been, when he sees their Captain finally enter the room and there's no sign of her around, Scully innocently asks, “where's Amy?”

An awkward silence falls upon the detectives at hearing his question, and Jake cringes in his chair. Next to him, Charles pats him on his tense shoulder, trying to make him relax with his touch, and Rosa is the one to eventually speak, “she's sick,” she only tells the older man – no need to give him all the details, he surely won't understand them anyway. “Won't be there for awhile.”

“Nothing too bad, I hope?” Hitchcock joins the conversation seemingly suddenly concerned by the state of their colleague.

As Jake finally turns to look at them, Rosa stares back at him with a gentle smile as she answers, confident, “nah. She'll be fine.”

He thanks her with a rictus, and she simply nods back.

“Well, now that we've been updated on Detective Santiago's state, maybe we can go back to the concerns of the day,” Captain Holt cuts the conversation off, as he starts his morning speech.

That's all Jake needs: a bit of normality in his life, and his boss has well understood that. Surely the reason why, later in the afternoon, he accepts to let him go after one of Charles's perps with him. He's been working on that case for the past days, and has finally come to a conclusion thanks to his partner's help during the morning.

About an hour later, they're back with the criminal, and the younger of the two detectives can't prevent himself from bragging when the elevator's door open and the three of them enter the bullpen, literally glowing with pride and happiness, something he hasn't felt for a long while now.

“Look who's been back only for a day and has already solved his first c–,” he's cut mid-sentence and his grins soon falters as his gaze falls upon his desk, and the one just in front of him. Amy is there, seated at usual her place, staring back at him.

His first thought is that he's only hallucinating – he wants things so badly to be back to normal that he's imagining her being there as she's always been for the past eight years, that's the only possible explanation, she's not there for _real_ –, but then he turns to his best friend. He notices his expression, and how big his eyes have grown, and how is mouth is now wide open, and how still he stands, and then he knows.

He's not dreaming at all. His girlfriend is here, like… _here_ here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I had a really busy and tiring week, and somehow my chapters are getting longer and longer so it obviously takes more time to write and readproof them.
> 
> I don't know what to think about this one tbh, but I hope you'll like it though, and thanks again for the kudos/subscriptions and all guys, that really means a lot to me :)

 Jake is quick to react when he realises Amy is indeed watching him from her usual spot in the bullpen. He gives his perp to his best friend next to him, then rushes towards the woman's side.

First thing he notices there is that she's holding something in her hands. Not just  _ anything _ –  a framed picture of them both, making funny faces at the camera.

The sight of it makes his heart ache a bit more than it already does in his chest.

This picture, he's only discovered it in the morning, when he first arrived at the precinct. She must have framed it and put it at her desk while he was in prison, he thought. It must have been a reminder of what she had to fight for every day, no matter the costs – so that they could be reunited the fastest possible, and be back to take silly selfies like this one, smiling and laughing and  _ together _ .

If she'd known how things did actually turn on…

“ Amy?” he gently calls her name once he gets out of his own mind. She's still staring at him, her brown eyes on his. “What are you doing here?”

“ I – huh… I wanted to see where I worked,” she nervously begins her explanation. “Your friends,” she points to Rosa and Terry, who have stopped in everything they were doing and are intently and rather indiscreetly watching them from afar now before going on, “they showed me my desk, and I was just trying to see if by any chance I could remember anything from what is here.”

“ And?” her boyfriend trails off – he can't prevent a rush of hope from running down his spine.

“ Nothing, I'm afraid,” she apologetically acknowledges. “I did find this, though,” she gives him the framed picture she hasn't let go of the whole time with a shy smile. “I noticed there were a lot like this one everywhere in the apartment too. We seemed to have fun, the two of us?”

Her smile is so genuine, so full of fondness when she asks him the question, a grin of his own just appears on his features as he looks at the picture with nostalgia, and tells her truthfully, “we had a lot of fun, yeah.”

Her gaze follows his, then, and she looks at the photo again with him, concentrating hard on it as an attempt to jog her memories, to remember this particular moment of captured happiness, and this man who seemed to be able to make her feel good, in another life (in her  _ real _ , lost life), and what they used to mean to each other – what she clearly still means for him.

Nothing happens, unfortunately. She can't seem to remember any of it.

There's one thing, on the other end – one  _ person _ , to be more precise – that Amy does remember, though. The actual reason of her coming to the precinct this afternoon, if she has to be completely honest with everything. That's why she says, after a short while spent in silence, “I came here to ask you something, actually…”

The man in front of her raises an eyebrow in question, but only praises her to go on with her request. She doesn't comply immediately – she's spot all the pair of curious orbs turned their way, as everyone is eagerly listening to their conversation in the religious quietness that has fallen upon the room, and she feels uncomfortable talking about _this_ in front of all these people she doesn't know.

(Doesn't  _ remember _ .)

“ Is there somewhere we can talk…  _ privately _ ?” she simply asks then, insisting on the last word and nodding in direction of the detectives around them to show Jake what she means.

He leaves his gaze from her, and takes a look at the bullpen, giving his colleagues a severe stare before turning his attention back to his girlfriend. “Come here,” he offers her his hand, and she's hesitant for just a split second before taking it in hers, ready to follow him wherever he's leading her, leaving the picture behind, face flat on the woman's cold desk.

They go down a few stairs without talking into a place full of cardboard boxes piled in shelving units – what Amy guesses must be the precinct's evidence lockup. It smells like old paper, and the room brings out quite a soothing atmosphere to her heart, which makes her immediately decide she likes it in here.

It's really calm, too – there's little odds someone will come and disturb them.

As for Jake, it seems to her that he looks a little lost, when she's done with her inspection of the place and turns back to him, ready to finally ask him what she wants to ask.

(It's where they shared their first real kiss, after all, even if she doesn't know that anymore.)

(Where they kind of killed a man, too.)

She clears her throat in an attempt to make him come back to reality, then once she's got his whole attention again and he's watching her with a apologetic smile, she eventually talks. “Teddy texted me earlier,” she goes straight to the point.

She's thought about it for hours, since she got the message in the morning, and she's reached the conclusion there's no nice way of letting him know of that – without hurting him, that is.

She might not remember him, but she can easily imagine how hurtful it can be for someone – anyone – having your supposed partner talking to you about her ex. An ex her mind thinks she's still in a relationship with, to top that.

It must be totally awful.

“ Oh,” is all Jake manages to reply, waiting for her to spill the rest of her announcement. It can't be something good, can it? She wouldn't look at him the way she's currently looking at him otherwise.

Despite everything, he knows her too well not to notice how nervous and unsure she is.

“He… somehow learned about what happened to me – the hostage thing, and that I ended up in the hospital – so he wanted to know how I was doing. We talked for a bit after that, and I… well, talking with him made me realise I would like to see him, since he's the last person I remember, and… you know… That's what I wanted to ask you. If you'd be okay with me having dinner with him tonight?” she doesn't take a break, not even to breathe, until she's done with her speech.

And it hurts indeed.  _ Oh so much. _

“Why would you ask me that?” Jake answers after a way too long while of stressful silence (according to Amy, anyway). “You're free to do whatever you want, you're not a prisoner here, you don't need no permission for anything, and surely not mine,” he snaps back.

Maybe it's a little too harsh, maybe she doesn't deserve it, but he can't help it, right now. He can't pretend he's fine, and hold himself back anymore.

And of course she can feel it, in the way in speaks and stands in front of her – that he's mad. She's spot his clenched fists along his sides. He's not mad at her, though. How could he?

What's happening isn't her fault.

He's actually mad at the universe, that seems to enjoy separating them too much – _hurting_ them too much. As if he (they) haven't been separated and hurt enough in the past. Enough for a lifetime.

To think that he put all his time and energy into organising a small party for her that evening, which he was going to let her know about, with the whole squad and even Kylie, her oldest and best friend, to change her mind and remind her that she's not alone in this nightmare… it appears he can simply cancel everything, now. And he's already dreading the questions that will inevitably come with it, and the explanation he'll have to give his friends.

_ She chose Teddy over us. She chose Teddy over  _ me _ . _

(She didn't choose anything at all, though – how could she, when she's not aware of his own plans?)

The same Teddy who, only a few months back, proposed to her in front of him – and his _actual_ girlfriend –, telling her how he loved her still. Who knows how he'll react when he learns about her amnesia and what period of her life her mind stopped at, then? Who knows if he won't take advantage of the whole situation? And, worst of all, who knows how _Amy_ will react to it all?)

“I know that,” the woman takes him out his dreadful thoughts as she speaks again, more confident this time. “But I also know we're supposed to be together, you and me, and you've been so sweet to me from the beginning, I found it only fair to ask for your opinion on this matter.”

This statement sort of calms him down – only for a moment, though.

He tries a smile that barely reaches his eyes. “I won't lie and tell you I don't mind you seeing him in those conditions,” he's more gentle in his tone this time, “but if it's what you want, if you think it can help you feel better… then I won't ever prevent you from doing so. I want what's best for you.”

She holds out her hand to take his, squeezing his fingers between hers. She's staring at him when she tells him in all honesty, “thank you for being so understanding with me.”

When he looks back up at her and their eyes meet, his sad orbs in her thankful ones, a strange rush of pain suddenly takes over her heart. There's something deep inside her that prays her to go to him and hug him tight, to tell him everything's gonna be alright, but she remains still, not doing anything of the sort. It would be too awkward. But there's one thought that does repeat itself in her head, even when she's left alone in the lockup after he left, pretending he had work to do –

She kind of understands why she would have fallen for him in the first place – even if she hasn't seen much of his whole personality yet. He's a good person, that's for sure.

(And he's really attractive too, she has to be honest with herself – totally her style.)

Back up in the bullpen, Jake doesn't have time to go to his desk burry his thoughts in hard work that Charles his here when he goes out of the elevator, hailing him and pressuring him into joining him in the break room – he has something he wants to show him, and he's so excited about it, he doesn't even notice the look of utter pain on his best friend's face, nor how he reluctantly follows him, sighing as he slowly makes his way to the room.

“ Look what I baked for tonight,” the older man shouts with happiness once they're both inside, pointing at the table in front of them. There lays a wonderful, smelling-good, enormous cake upon which are written the words 'Welcome back Amy' in white, big letters. “It's not too much, is it?” he suddenly worries as his colleague doesn't seem to react the way Charles imagined –  _ wished _ –  he would.

“No, it's perfect,” the youngest of the two reassures him, doing his best not to let a tear fall down his eye as he replies to the other man and trying to sound as persuasive as possible.

He knows he should tell him he did that for nothing, that Amy isn't coming tonight, that the party is cancelled, but he doesn't have the guts to do so. Not when his friend is looking at him with such a look of complete happiness and pride, unable to keep quiet about everything the whole squad prepared to make this evening the best ever – to make Amy feel at home among them again.

That's why he settles for fake-smiling as he barely listens to whatever Charles has to tell him, until he's finally free to go back to his desk. He sees the framed picture left on his girlfriend's side there, and takes it, putting it on his own side. He watches it for a few seconds, with their silly faces staring back at him. His heart breaks thinking about this time when everything was this good.

_So_ good, even, that, as he was slowly rotting in prison, the only thing that helped him not go completely insane in that hell of a place was the promise he made himself that once free, he would finally do it – propose to her. It was about time he did so, after all the times he already considered asking her to marry him before. But it isn't the time at all anymore – and maybe it won't ever be.

Oh, how much does he miss her. Even more so now that she is there with him, but not completely there at the same time…

* * *

 

As Amy is getting ready for her date (or what Jake thinks of as a date anyway), her actual boyfriend is sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand, trying to change his mind while watching TV and not to think too much about how long the other detective spends locked in the bathroom. Teddy is supposed to pick her up at seven to take her to some restaurant in town, and even though he still doesn't really like the sound of it, the brunette has to admit he was pretty relieved when he learned they weren't going to see each other at his own place, or worst – at  _ theirs _ .

He, on the other hand, is only leaving at eight to join his friends at Shaw's.

“May I have some?” he's suddenly startled from his staring blankly at the screen in front of him by a shy voice at his side as Amy finds a place beside him.

When he turns to look at her, he can't help but study her for a few seconds – she's so beautiful, in that red dress that suits her so well. She even put some lipstick, he notices right away, something she only bothers doing on some occasions. The remark goes out by itself, then – he doesn't even take the time to answer her initial question first, too shocked for it. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Yeah,” she trails off nervously, her ears turning a shade of pink as she speaks. “Is it too much? Do you think I should take it off?”

“ No,” he answers as an attempt to reassure her, and even manages a smile at her despite the fact that he's literally dying inside because all of this looks too much like she really wants to make a good impression on Teddy, and that simple thought is actually killing him. “You look great.”

She smiles back, her blush becoming more obvious than before as she's thanking him. She then repeats what she already asked earlier, pointing at the bottle in his hand. “May I have some?”

“Sure,” he offers it to her. He watches her, eyebrows raised, while she takes a huge gulp of his beer. “Are you… nervous?” he says when she finally gives it back to him, half-done now.

“A little…” she shamefully acknowledges, looking down.

She doesn't add anything, first, so Jake thinks this is the end of the conversation, and he starts putting his attention back on the TV, feeling a bit uncomfortable to think about something more to tell. After a short while, though, she eventually goes on. “I mean, it's a bit weird to have dinner with an ex I don't remember dumping, apparently twice, you know? I have an image of him in my mind that's from eight years ago, what if he's changed so much I don't recognise him anymore?”

“I wouldn't know, no, but I can imagine it is, yeah,” he lets out a small nervous giggle, then finds all of his seriousness again. “Don't wonder too much, I'm sure it'll be fine. And if it doesn't, you can always call me, I'll come pick you up.”

To be honest, he doesn't really know how he manages to be supportive in such a situation, but he is – because it's Amy, and he wants her to be fine, no matter how, no matter with whom.

It’s something that really does warm her heart up. But she doesn't have time to answer anything, since all of a sudden, they're cut in their exchange by a knock on the door. “Well,” Amy jumps a bit in her seat as she's feeling uneasy again, “I suppose it's time for me to discover the truth anyway.”

Before she stands up and goes opening the door, she turns to Jake, though, and asks one more time, “sure you're still okay with that?”

“Yeah, relax, stop worrying about me and just go enjoy your night with someone who's actually familiar to you,” he gently pushes her away from the couch, and watches helplessly as she finally meets Teddy at the entrance, taking him in her arms to greet him.

He seems surprised by her unexpected gesture at first, but doesn't complain – on the contrary, he soon is the one who tightens their shared embrace.

Jake doesn't move from his spot, hidden from their view on the couch in the living-room as the ex-couple happily chat in front of the door, until they finally decide to leave the apartment. That's when he eventually allows himself to release the sigh he's been holding the whole time. He takes the rest of his drink down in one before standing up, going straight to the kitchen, where he takes another beer – and another one, just in case.

Then he sits back in his spot, and waits alone until it's time for him to leave as well.

Amy and Teddy are rather quiet on their ride to the restaurant, in kind of an awkward way. The woman hasn't told him she's lost her memory yet, and doesn't quite know how to bring the topic between them – that's not something she can spill out between two conversations.

Fortunately enough the other detective finally decides to take the floor and starts talking after giving her a quick glance at a red stop. “I must admit,” he starts his speech, “I was quite shocked when you asked me to get dinner together tonight. Aren't you supposed to still be with Jake?”

“That's… complicated,” she carefully answers, trying to gauge his reactions as she speaks before going on with her explanations. “Teddy, there's something I need to tell you about before anything else…” she trails off, which makes him turn towards her for good this time, intrigued.

His eyes are shining with expectation as he waits for her to continue.

“Oh my God,” he can't retain himself from exclaiming. “Is this really happening? Have you changed your mind about us? Because if you have, you have to know that the proposal is still up, and…”

“What?! No!” she cuts him off in defense, more confused than ever. “What proposal? Well, you know what, nevermind. What I was going to tell you is that what happened to me during the time I was held hostage… it left some damage to my brain. I –,” she takes a deep breath, then finally spills it out all at once, “I don't remember anything that happened in my life in the past eight years.”

“You – you don't remember – anything?!” Teddy is quick to react to her words, eyes wide open in shock. He can't quite believe it yet.

“No…” Amy confirms as she manages to held his gaze despite the panic rushing down her spine.

There's a silence between the two, then, during which the man seems to try and understand what she just said really means to her – to  _ them _ . Until it suddenly hits him –

“Wait, eight years ago… We were still together at that time, right? Does it… does it mean you don't remember our breakup, and that we got back together again a few years after that?”

“No…” she repeats, as it seems to be the only thing she's able to let out right now, her breathings short and her throat dry from apprehension. She doesn't need to tell more, though.

This simple statement is all it takes for a huge and happy smile to appear on Teddy's features, as if a thought just occurred to his mind. That's why, after only a few seconds, he asks _the_ question.

“Is this the reason why you wanted to see me tonight? Amy, are you still in love with me?!”

He's looking intently at her, right into her eyes, and she just doesn't know what to say in return.

“I –… I think we're here,” she turns her head, unable to keep hold of his gaze anymore, and points to the building that hopefully just appeared in front of them, lighting the way and saving her from answering.

She's too confused for that.

* * *

 

It's exactly thirty-two minutes late that Jake enters the bar in which he's supposed to meet with his friends, _alone_ and already drunk. He's took down so many beers before coming that there was no way he could drive anymore, so he had to walk there, the fresh air of fall in his hair helping him refocus his thoughts a little on something less depressing than what they were.

He almost didn't show up – he was too desperate to see anyone –, but he finally changed his mind at the last minute. He wouldn't bare staying in the silence of his apartment, thinking about Amy and how much fun she was surely having, reunited with the man she thought she still loved. He also missed his squad, and spending some time surrounded with people who _did_ love him could only do him good – especially after being separated from everything during his time in jail.

Plus he's sure his colleagues would have come by at his place at some point anyway, if he hadn't come, worried about what happened for him (for  _ Amy  _ and him) not coming without letting them know about the reason. He didn't want them to find him miserable on his couch, drunk to oblivion.

That's why he's here now, stumbling across the tables until he finally manages to reach the one in which all of the Nine-Nine (plus Kylie) are already seated with a drink in front of them. Their happy chatter stops the minute he sits at one of the two empty spaces left for his girlfriend and him, and they all stare in utter silence at him, eyes wide open. He doesn't seem to care about that, though – he simply hails at a bartender passing by, and asks him to bring him a beer,  _ if you please, garçon _ .

As if he hasn't had enough of those for the night.

“Where's Amy?” Kylie is finally the one finding the guts to question him about what everyone had in mind from the beginning, but didn't dare asking first, when the bartender has left them alone.

“She already had plans, so she couldn't come,” the concerned man informs the others, sitting a bit further inside his booth as he speaks, wishing he could disappear so that he wouldn't have to see his friend's gaze turn from concern to pity at his explanation, and taking a sip of his newly-arrived beverage. “Sorry guys,” he adds then, shrugging as if this is nothing important when it clearly is.

So important even, that it's the reason why he's presently in such a terrible state.

“Other plans?” Terry wants to know more. “Is she having dinner with her parents again?” he tries.

“I made a cake for her!” Charles takes the floor as well, complaining. He's soon stopped by Gina, though – seated by his side, she hits him hard in the ribs to make him shush.

“ Nope,” Jake shakes his head, answering his sergeant. “She's on a  _ date _ ,” he corrects, and insists on the last word as he takes another – a  _ bigger _ –  sip of his beer.

That's when Rosa finally intervenes. She deprives him of his bottle to prevent him from gulping down more alcohol. “A date?” she then repeats what he's just said, skeptical. “Are you sure about that?!”

“Yep,” he confirms, and tries to snatch back what's his, but his colleague has a firm hold on it, and good reflexes, so he fails. “She's out with Teddy – she asked me if I didn't mind her having dinner with him tonight earlier at the precinct. That's why she came in the first place – not really to 'see where she used to work' or whatever the reason she gave.”

“Hey, you know as much as I do that Amy is no liar, and that she's terrible at it anyway,” Kylie is back in the conversation, standing for her best friend – she knows Jake is upset, and she can easily understand why, but that's no reason for implying false things about her. Which he knows too.

“And you agreed to let her go?” Rosa, rather shocked by his words, doesn't leave him time to react in any way to the other woman's comment. “Why would you do something stupid like that?!”

“Well, she wanted to see him,” he replies, offended by her assault. “Who am I to tell her no, then?”

“Who _you_ are?!” she repeats his question – she sounds really irritated by it. “You're her boyfriend, you moron, and you her know better than she knows herself right now. You _know_ that this is not what our Amy would want. She would want to be with us – and especially with _you_.”

“She's not 'our Amy' anymore,” her friend simply, and bitterly spills out, defeated. “And… maybe she won't ever be again.”

“Hey,” the dark-haired woman is more gentle this time, and even puts a hand on his arm to make him look at her, and reassure him. She gives him a small gentle smile as she goes on, “don't say that. You've heard the doctor as clearly as I did – the chances of her not recovering are very low. She _will_ have her memory back, eventually. Just be patient. It's only been a few days.”

He manages a smile back at her, and everyone around the table thinks she succeeded in making him find his reason again. But it appears it didn't help that much, finally, when they see him sneak his beer back as Rosa's not looking after it anymore, only concentrated on him.

That's all he needs presently – to drink his pain away.

That's a bit shameful, too, but he really doesn't care right now.

All he cares about is for that image of Amy and Teddy together and whatever they must be doing to go out of his mind for good, and it's the only way he's thinking of that can make that happen.

* * *

 

As the evening slowly continues, Kylie soon finds herself kind of left aside at this table full of detectives, as all his friends are talking only about Jake, in search of a way to cheer him up a bit, and make him change his mind, though never being able to agree on anything about it. He's gone to the counter of the bar some time ago now, helplessly knocking back drink after drink, and rejecting everyone who tried to approach him and talk him out of his misery.

She feels bad for him. True, she told him once she didn't think he was a good match for Amy, and true, he pisses her off a lot when he makes their team lose when her best friend brings him to one of their trivia nights, but she knows deep down how much he loves her – and how much _she_ loves him as well. 

Or used to, anyway.

That's why after awhile she chooses to finally take the matter into her own hands, when she sees that nothing his colleagues could come up with has worked already, and picks her phone from her purse, going straight to Amy's number in her contacts list.

She doesn't hesitate one second when she sends her a text message.

_Hey girl!_ she quickly writes. _Where are you?_

_Dinner with Teddy – I'll explain everything later. Why? Is everything alright?_ the answer is soon to come as the blond woman's mobile buzzes in her hands just a few seconds later.

_ I am, don't worry _ , she reassures her.  _ Jake, on the other hand… I wouldn't say he is. _

To explain her words, she joins a picture of the detective, his head now laying down on the counter.

_ Jake? Why are you with Jake? What happened?!! _

Kylie can feel her friend's anxiety even without being able to actually see her when she answers, something soon confirmed when she immediately receives a call from her. She excuses herself to the others then, and goes out of Shaw's before picking up for better privacy.

On the other end of the line, Amy's voice is literally shaking when she starts talking, not even greeting the woman. “Kylie, why are you with Jake?” she suspiciously asks again the same question she's just wrote her.

“You didn't know he threw a party for you tonight, did you? With all your friends from your squad, and me, to show you they all care about you, and that we'll be there for you, despite everything.”

She already guessed that earlier, when Jake came and said she had better plans, but now she has her confirmation.

“No…” Amy tells her, and she can't help but feel ashamed about it. “Why would he let me go see Teddy in that case? He told me he didn't mind me going. He should have let me know about that! I would have rescheduled our meeting. He must have put so much effort into it…”

“I suppose he thought you would prefer a night with a guy you actually remember than him and some people you don't know anymore,” Kylie shrugs, even though her friend can't see it.

“Maybe,” she acknowledges, then pauses, thinking about what she's been told… and what just happened with Teddy too.

(“I still love you,” he told her right after she sent her last text to the other woman, taking her free hand in both his and looking straight into her eyes as he declared his feelings to her.

Hearing those words from him, given her actual situation, made her panic, and she didn't know what to answer. Hopefully she received Kylie's picture of a drunken Jake at a counter of a bar, and her heart broke a little at the sight, and she found her way out of this conversation.

“I'm sorry, this is really urgent, I need to take care of it,” she told him before rushing out.)

There's a moment of complete silence between the two friends, before the detective finally talks again, trying to take this thought of her ex-boyfriend telling him he still loved her out of her head and concentrating on her _current_ one instead. “How bad is he?” she worriedly asks.

She truly and genuinely cares about Jake's well-being – all of this is kind of her fault, after all.

“Pretty drunk,” Kylie admits. “And… depressed,” she adds after a beat, hesitant to share more. “I never saw him like this before, to be quite honest with you. He's really bad.”

“Send me the location of the bar, I'm coming,” Amy spontaneously makes up her mind then, and doesn't let the woman on the other end of the phone argue as she hangs off immediately after. She comes back inside the restaurant where Teddy is nervously waiting for her – he has his head staring down at his dessert he hasn't touched, only playing with some piece of his cake with his fork.

When he hears her steps coming towards him, he suddenly looks up, and apologises. “Amy! I'm so sorry, I didn't want to freak you out… I should have never told you that.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” she tries to reassure him, and it's only half a lie – sure, every excuse is a good one not to have to deal with him and his feelings for her and what _she_ feels for him in return right now (even though she knows it's something she'll have to think about later, but she wants to be prepared for it, not to be taken out of the blue like this) but what really matters to her presently is that she hurt someone, someone who's been nothing but kind to her, and she has to fix it. “I just have to go, it's something important. I'm really sorry about that,” she adds, then puts some bills on the table to pay her part of the meal, takes back her jacket, and leaves before he has the chance to reply with anything.

After her taxi drops her off in front of Shaw's, Amy goes straight into the bar. She has to stop for a few seconds at the door, overwhelmed by all of these pair of eyes that turned to look at her, but she finally manages to make her way through the crowd when spots Kylie and joins her at her table.

Everyone there – among them are some people she recognises from her visit at their precinct earlier that day – is watching her with surprise, but she chooses to ignore them. She has more important things to do than deal with them right now, and explain them whatever they would like to know.

“ Where is he?” she doesn't bother even greeting anybody, tension palpable on her whole body, and she doesn't have to say who this ‘he’ is either for her to be understood.

As a unique answer, her best friend points to the counter with her head, and the brunette feels like her heart breaks a little bit more than it already did when she saw his picture as she notices him in that same position a few feets away from them – _actually_ seeing him in such a state is quite different.

Slowly, very carefully, she goes to him and takes a sit by his side. She orders a beer too on her way – she feels like she'll need one.

He doesn't look up to see who's there.

“Hey,” she gently calls him then, and hearing her voice is what eventually makes him react.

He doesn't say anything back right away, though – he simply stares at her, eyes and mouth wide open, as if he can't believe she's there, with _him_ and not Teddy.

“Amy?” he ends up asking, just to be sure. “What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Teddy? Am I… hallucinating?” he tries looking around in search of some proof this is real.

“You're not hallucinating,” she genuinely smiles at him, and even lets out a giggle, a bit amused by the expression on his face as he's listening to her. “I was told you organised something for me here, and thought it would only be bad form if I didn't show up at my own party, don't you think?”

“Very bad form indeed,” he agrees with her, joking along.

After that he remains silent for awhile, and she doesn't say anything else either, so they just stay in the quietness of the moment, until Jakes talks again, in a way more serious tone this time.

“I’m glad you're here,” he couldn't be more truthful.

“I am too,” she admits, and she puts her hand on his and squeezes it between her fingers, which make him look at her again with a kind smile upon his features.

“So…” he trails off, before asking the question that's been coursing through his mind the whole night – it appeared that his plan of ‘drinking to oblivion’ didn't quite work – on the contrary, even, it made him think about her evening more and more. “How was it, your date with the most-boring-man-on-earth?”

She frowns.

“My date?” she repeats. “It wasn't really a date!” she corrects him, on the defensive.

She can feel her heart start pounding faster and faster in her chest as she thinks about his choice of words and what it means, and ‘I love you’s, and…

“It went… okay, I think,” she finally answers him as she tries to let this all go of her head.

She doesn't want to share too much of it, though. Especially not with him – she doesn't want to hurt him more than she already did by telling him Teddy still loved her.

(But she can agree with him on one point: despite all of his niceness, she can’t deny that he _is_ kind of boring in some ways, something she didn't remember at all from the first time they dated – and something she tells Jake as she laughs at his nickname for her ex-boyfriend to soothe the atmosphere between the two them.)

“Well, we all make mistakes,” the other detective is in a mood for joking again, as he feels way better than before now that Amy is _here_ with him, and he knows that she didn't think of this meeting with her former partner as a date. “And all this made you finally end up pretty well, I must say.”

“By dating you?” she plays along with him.

“Yep,” he answers, grinning proudly, until he suddenly becomes all serious again. He stares at her, at their still holding hands, and as alcohol runs through his veins, he just can't hold it anymore.

(He just can't think straight anymore either.)

That's why he spills out the words, after some new silence has passed. “I love you,” he tells her.

She loses all smiles and happiness then, and her heart starts pounding fast in her chest  _ again _ , and she watches him with wide, big eyes. Just like with Teddy earlier, she doesn't know what to say in return, panic coursing through her veins, and Jake regrets his declaration the second he lets it out.

It's too late now, though – he can't take what he said back.

They were having a moment there, they were having _fun_ , just the two of them, but obviously he had to ruin it all with his stupid feelings he couldn't keep for himself only anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on Tumblr @b99peraltiago if you want ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY it took me that long to update this story. Truth is, I wasn't inspired to write angsty things with Christmas coming and all – I was in a way too good mood haha, having only fluffy ideas to write.
> 
> I'm not really fond of this chapter tbh, and I'm not sure of where this story is going but well... hopefully it won't be too bad. It's my first multichapters fic in another language, and for Peraltiago so... I'm still learning haha.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you'll still enjoy this, and hopefully next chapter will come up way quicker than this one :) Don't hesitate to tell me what you think, it helps me a lot improving and all having other's opinion!
> 
> And btw: happy New Year everyone!! I wish you all the best and everything you want ♥

“… and then, he… he told me that he loved me.”

Amy is sitting on a couch, her eyes looking down at her feet, nervously playing with her hands on her lap as she speaks. She’s recalling her night from a few days ago – that same night she had dinner with Teddy then met with her best friend and actual boyfriend afterwards.

It’s her first session with the therapist she’s been assigned to see once a week after being able to go out of the hospital: Dr. Linda Martin, the woman introduced herself to her almost one hour earlier.

And, even though she felt weird talking about her life with this complete stranger at the beginning, now she feels a lot more comfortable sharing it all. It’s her job, after all, to listen to her without judgment.

Plus she hasn’t told anyone  _ everything  _ that was to know about that night – not even Kylie.

So she believes it can only do her good, to finally spill it out.

“What did you say in return?” the doctor, a small, blond woman with a soothing smile and trusting face asks as she writes some words on her notebook and not looking at her patient directly.

“I– uh– nothing. I just… I ran away, actually,” Amy quite shamefully acknowledges, never meeting the other woman’s gaze as she put hers up on her finally, remembering the awkward moment, images of it coming back in flashes to her mind, the voice still crystal clear in her head, freezing her.

_ I love you. _

“Why is that?” Linda pushes her into trying to analyse her reaction. “Don’t you love him too?”

It takes some time for the detective to give an actual answer while she thinks about it.

“I… don’t know? I mean, I know I’m supposed to feel  _ it _ right now, but… seeing him like that, being with him again, I–… it’s complicated,” she poorly finishes her explanation.

She’s aware this probably isn’t the kind of easy way out Linda wants her to make out of their meetings. To hide behind some “complications” instead of searching a real answer to her issues isn’t helping. 

But it  _ is _ true that her situation complicated.

(And it’s only their first session. So it’s normal she won’t understand everything right away, right?)

Because not knowing anything about eight whole years of her life anymore and thinking she’s a very completely different person that the one she’s supposed to have grown into during those said years doesn’t help much feeling confident about her own emotions those days.

Or about anything at all, for that matters.

So that’s what she tells her doctor when, as expected, she asks her to develop her words.

As a response to that, Linda surprisingly does nothing else than simply nod, write a few more notes, then looks up to meet the other’s eyes. She reassuringly smiles at her before speaking again.

“What about Jake?” she says, taking the brunette off-guard. “That’s his name, right – of your current boyfriend?”

She thought there would be more questions about Teddy, and what he told her, and what she felt for him, and everything. She didn’t think they would enter the topic of Jake just yet.

She doesn’t know if she’s ready for it, either.

“Jake?” she interjects, then. “Why are we suddenly changing topics and talking about him?”

Weirdly enough, she feels her walls of the beginning of the therapy coming back.

“Are we really though?” the blond woman offers her a mysterious rictus – Amy can’t really understand why, but she somehow seems happy with how she’s reacting. “Don’t you think he can be part of the reason why you ran away like this? Isn’t there any part of you that still care about him… despite it all?”

“Why would he be? I barely know him!” her patient reminds her of the fact, upset.

She doesn’t quite like the path they’re taking right now, but doesn’t even know why. The doctor is just doing her job, asking things to make her question whatever she’s feeling.

Still though, she’s not comfortable with this particular one.

“I can’t care about a guy I don’t know,” she tells her. “Or I don’t remember knowing. This has nothing to do with Jake. I… I couldn’t tell Teddy I loved him back because I wasn’t prepared for him to say it at the moment, and because I  _ am  _ in love with a version of him that is eight years younger than he is now – it’s plenty of time to change a lot, and become a complete stranger then.”

She has to admit at least that the interrogation helps her put words on the situation, and understand it.

“And actually,” she ends up confessing, “Jake told me he loved me too, that night. I couldn’t say it back either. He’s nice, he really is, but… I don’t know him,” she tends to repeat it a lot.

She’s not perfectly sure why she’s acting like this – getting all defensive and rejecting  _ that much _ that maybe, just  _ maybe _ , her supposed boyfriend had a part to play in the scenario. But she is.

“Did you run away?” Linda doesn’t lose it, nor does she seem surprised by Amy’s revelations.

“I–… Actually, no,” she calms down immediately.

She did quite the contrary, even. She can still see herself, silent for awhile, in shock. She can still make up Jake’s face, sorry and ashamed, right after letting out  _ the words _ .

“I’m sorry, I– I–… I didn’t mean it. Well, I  _ did _ mean it, of course, because I  _ do _ love you – damn, sorry – but I didn’t want to  _ say _ it. Not like this anyway. I just… it went out by itself, y’know? But I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, I know I’m still kind of a stranger to you, and…” he started rambling, until he just went quiet all of a sudden, certainly thinking he wasn’t helping himself with his poor excuses and was, on the contrary, digging his grave a little bit more with each new sentence.

“Jake,” Amy managed a small smile after recovering her emotions – despite the awkwardness of the moment, she couldn’t help to find him cute, trying to make up for it like this. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?” he asked, unsure.

“Yeah, it is,” she promised, smiling wider this time, and he sighed in relief.

For a time none of them dared to talk again, afraid they’d say something wrong and break the quiet atmosphere again, until Jake spotted Amy yawning. He looked up at the clock above the bar then, and was startled to notice it was already past 3 in the morning. As he turned his head towards the booth were his friends were supposed to be, he also saw that no-one was occupying it anymore.

That’s why he finally asked. “Wanna go home?”

“If you don’t mind, it was a rough night,” the brunette woman acknowledged.

But, as her boyfriend tried to stand up from his chair, he stumbled, alcohol still running in his veins.

“Let me help you,” Amy offered, and passed an arm around his waist, taking him outside, and then detached herself from him a few minutes, so that she could call a cab that took them away.

Once inside the apartment, she took off his sneakers, lied him down in the couch. When she acted like leaving him there now that she had done her job and made sure he was comfortable enough to get some rest, he grabbed her wrist and, half-asleep from the ride, opened his eyes to look at her.

“Thank you,” he told her wholeheartedly.

She watched him for a bit, not moving nor saying any word, before she finally answered, “you’re welcome. You’ve been there for me from the beginning, time for me to do the same. Goodnight Jake.”

“Goodnight, Ames,” he smiled, then closed his eyes again.

When she came back with a glass of water and an Aspirin for the morning after, he was already loudly snoring. She rolled her eyes, but remained there, studying his angelic, sleeping shape with a smile.

She urged back to bed when she realised what she was doing –  _ staring  _ at him like that.

The day after, they didn’t talk about what happened, and what was said. Amy figured Jake must have forgotten – it wouldn’t be a surprise, after all, given his state – and she thought it was for the best.

She didn’t tell anyone, then. Until her meeting with her therapist.

“Amy?” the woman is suddenly taken out of her memories by the said doctor calling her name.

“Sorry,” she apologises, trying to focus again on her session. “What were you saying?”

“I’d like you to try something, if you don’t mind,” Linda repeats. “I’d like you to close your eyes, and say it. What you weren’t able to say back then, to any of them? Say it now.”

The detective is a bit surprised by such a request at first, but doesn’t question it – after all, the other woman is a professional, thus she knows what she’s doing. So she does as she’s asked.

“I… love you,” she lets out the words, hesitating just a little as she speaks. It’s a bit strange, voicing it like this, out loud and to no-one in particular.

After that, she opens her eyes. “What did you see?” the therapist wants to know.

“I didn’t see anything,” the brunette confesses apologetically.

“Say it again. Several times if you must. Until you mean it. Until you  _ see _ something.”

“I love you,” Amy gives it another try then. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” each time a different way, concentrating as much as she can on the word and its meaning, eyelids firmly closed. “ _ I love you. _ ”

That’s it. She suddenly opens her eyes, mouth half-open, and seems disoriented by what she saw.

Linda doesn’t have time to ask her anything that she’s already gathering her things, and standing up, rushing towards the exit of the room without any explanation. “I’m sorry, I… I gotta go.”

She closes the door behind her, suffocating, as she rushes outside. She needs air.

Only air.

To take deep breaths of fresh air.

And not think about what she saw as she was saying the words out loud –  _ his _ face, looking back at her with a bit of confusion in his eyes, wearing a weird Hawaiian shirt as they were dancing together.

_ Jake. _

Hopefully, her therapist doesn’t follow her and lets her leave.

* * *

It’s been a hell of a day for Jake, so much that it’s late in the night when he is finally able to come back home from work after having to take on extra hours to go undercover with Terry and Rosa. Hopefully it wasn’t for nothing, as they actually managed to get their perp and put him behind bars.

It’s still a bit hard for him to do so – making people go to jail, after what he experienced himself not so long ago. He’s always so afraid he isn’t right, and incarcerating the wrong person. An innocent.

Just like he and Rosa were.

He tries not to think too much about it, though. He’d just go crazy otherwise, with everything going on in his life right now. So he keeps it all to himself, and does what he’s always done best in the past –

He represses everything inside, firmly locking it up.

The only person he’d feel comfortable enough in sharing this with is Amy anyway, and of course he won’t –  _ can’t _ – do it given her state. He already almost blew everything up in their oh so fragile relationship by telling her he loved her (obviously he remembers – just played cowards and acted like he didn’t when he saw the brunette woman wasn’t ready to talk about this with him, and how she took care of him afterwards instead of just running away – which hhe would have totally understood, by the way, and kind of expected as well – because it appeared like it was easier than risking to face it just yet at the moment) so there’s no way he’s gonna dare involving her in his own problems and fears and risk worsening it once more.

Things are going quite good between them actually, if he has to be honest with himself – learning to know each other again at their own path. They’re making progress every new day, he can feel it.

Even though she still doesn’t seem to remember not even one simple thing about him or her old life of the past eight years, unfortunately, and that it kills him a bit more every time.

He’s heard from Amy only once today, though, when he told her he would be late so that she wouldn’t worry about not seeing him come back and checked on her to see if she was alright – he knew her first therapy was coming up the same day, and could tell she was nervous about it from the way she acted all morning before he left her alone (he still knew her so well, after all) – and needed anything. She replied in the most neutral way possible that  _ no, she didn’t need anything at all, thank you, Jake _ .

The apartment is all dark when the detective enters it, and he tries to be as quiet as he can be while making his way inside, not putting on any light not to wake his girlfriend up, and going straight to the couch, not even taking time to change into more comfortable clothes.

He’s exhausted anyway, so he won’t need that to go to sleep still.

How startled he is then, when he makes out a silhouette already sitting where  _ he _ is supposed to rest. 

Despite the darkness, he immediately recognises Amy, all curled up with her legs pulled up against her chest and her head hidden in her lap, rocking herself back and forth as she’s breathing loudly, in short, uneven thuds. “Amy?” he calls her name, trying to remain as calm as possible despite the deep rush of worry starting running down his spine, suddenly feeling wide awake again.

She doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t even bother looking up, simply going on with her rocking.

_ Back and forth. _

_ Back and forth. _

He knows those signs, what they mean, and what state she is in right now. He knows about that all too well, even though it’s been awhile he hasn’t witnessed them. She’s in the middle of a panic attack.

The  _ huge _ kind, not the little ones easily stoppable – it wouldn’t have been fun otherwise, obviously.

Quickly then, without thinking it through, he sits next to her and slowly, ever so carefully puts his hand on her shoulder to (hopefully) take her back from her trance and make her realise he’s there – realise that she’s not alone anymore and that everything is going to be okay. That’s what he tells her, too, as he starts talking to her in a very tender voice, taking his time to breathe slowly, trying to force her into matching his breathings with his.

Since he senses it’s working a little bit, he goes on, never stopping to speak – saying anything and everything that goes through his mind, some random thoughts.

As he does so, he turns his head from her only for a minute, in search of what could have triggered the panic attack in the first place. That’s how he sees them – the pictures, and binders, and cigarette butts all scattered around the place as if someone dropped them. The room has never been such a mess.

Not even after Jake first moved in here with all his stuff, all those months ago.

He’s soon to put the pieces together and understand, then –

Amy must have been searching for reminiscence of her past, trying to learn more about it thanks to it, and it became too much to handle for her, watching herself in moments she couldn’t remember.

It happened before, after all, that she freaked out about it when he tried telling it himself.

_ Hence the panic attack. _

“Ames, listen to me,” he calls her name. “You’re alright now. Everything’s alright,” he gently pats her on the back with his palm spread widely on it, all the way down her spine and back up.

He would always know how to take care of those crises, before. Had learned to throughout the years – recognise them, and then stop them. But all of this was when Amy knew him – and  _ he _ knew her.

He’s not so sure what he did back then will work this time, but he’s ready to take the chance.

He doesn’t really have another choice anyway. And there’s no way he’s letting her calm down alone.

So he slowly tries to make her look-up and de-curl herself from her current (and probably not so comfortable, especially if she’s been like this for awhile now) position, never stopping talking in the process, still breathing slowly. It takes some time – Amy’s not very cooperating – but he eventually manages to sit her down normally, her breaths a little bit more normal now.

As she does so, though, something falls from her lap. Jake bends down to grab it, and is quite startled when he recognises the picture she was keeping with her: a silly selfie of the both of them, on a boat, wearing their ‘undercover as a true couple on a cruise’ colourful Hawaiian shirts.

The one he brought with him into prison, to keep her close, somehow.

That reminder of their first vacation together, when for the first time since they started dating, she told him she  _ loved  _ him.

_ Noice. Smort. _

_ I love you too. _

He can’t help but nostalgically smile at the sight, and the thought of it.

“It’s not possible, it’s not possible, it’s not possible,” he’s soon taken back to reality when he hears Amy speak, repeating the same words on a loop.

“What’s not possible?” he asks, confused, putting his whole attention back to her.

“This,” she points to the photography.

He doesn’t understand what she means. But that’s not the worst. The worst is when he puts his gaze on her, and is met by her own sad, desperate orbs looking back at him. She seems so vulnerable.

It breaks his heart. Even more so because he doesn’t seem to be able to help her now. Which takes him back to that day at the hospital, when she finally woke up, and he scared her off unwantedly.

In a sense, if he trusts the signs she’s sending, he’s once again the one responsible for her panic attack, because of this picture… and he hates himself for it.

“I’m so sorry, Ames,” he says then. “This is all my fault…”

He then does what always worked with her before – with the Amy who loved him – and wraps his arms around her to take her in a hug. Not too tight are first, to let her go if she feels like it’s too much, that he’s going too far into her personal space but she doesn’t seem to think so. On the contrary, even, she’s the one getting closer and letting her head fall into the crook of his neck and she loudly breathes in and out – in a much even way than before, this time, though. They remain like this for a long while, both fallen silent this time, until Jake feels Amy weighing heavier and heavier against him.

When he calls her name and she doesn’t answer, very still and  _ calm _ this time, he understands she’s just fallen asleep – which makes sense, given how her panic attacks always took her a lot of energy.

So, ever so gently, not to wake her up in the process, he takes her back to her bed, and lies her down here, covering her with covers so that she won’t be cold when she wakes up. He waits there a few moments, watching her. He wants to kiss her temple so bad, in a very protective manner, but he stops himself from doing so. He doesn’t want to do things that would make  _ this  _ Amy feel uncomfortable.

He simply leaves her, then. Doesn’t close the door, though, should she need something, so that he can hear her. Before finally going to sleep himself, he gathers all the pictures on the floor together with a pang of hurt in his chest while doing so, all the memories coming back to him with each new photo.

Despite his tiredness, he can’t seem to bring himself to sleep once he’s himself lied down on his couch and ready for sleep. He can’t stop thinking he’s the one who’s constantly hurting the love of his life.

Not on purpose, obviously. But still.

He has to do something about it, then. Even though it’s going to hurt  _ him _ instead.

It’s for a good cause, he thinks. His girlfriend can’t stay like this.

* * *

The morning after, when Jake is woken up by his cellphone’s alarm clock, he’s not really surprised to see that Amy is already up and in the kitchen, preparing coffee. She’s still a morning person, after all.

Not even what she went through could even take that away.

They don’t exchange much words, sharing breakfast together, even though the male detective can see that the brunette wants to tell him something. He doesn’t rush her to do so.

He wants to let her do it when she’s ready – even if he’s dying to ask her if she’s feeling better.

And to apologise, too. He also needs to tell her about what conclusion he came to during the night, but he doesn’t quite know how to do it, know to make it sound right.

Fortunately, Amy ends up breaking the quietness of the moment, taking something out of the pocket of her NYPD hoodie she seems to love as much as ‘old Amy’ used to (he won’t tell her it used to be  _ his  _ yet, even though she probably figured it out already, given how big it is on her – but she doesn’t seem to care, and he would give everything to relive that moment when he saw her coming out of the bedroom casually wearing it a few mornings after they were back here – he almost choked on his glass of orange soda at the sight) and putting the same picture she was holding the night before right in front of him. She cleared her voice and, a bit embarrassed, she asked, “Can you tell me the story about this picture, please?”

He’s a bit startled by the request at first, but obliges. “We were on a cruise,” he begins his explanation, reliving in the moment. “I won it for us. Well, I  _ thought  _ I won it, as it ended up being a trap from a perp I’ve been tracking for years now, so that I could protect him from someone who wanted to kill him…”

He gives her all the details of the vacations. He doesn’t speak about the ‘I love you’s right away, though – doesn’t know if he should. Doesn’t know if she’s ready to hear it.

Doesn’t know if  _ he _ is ready to voice it out loud.

Especially after what happened at the bar. But then when he finally shuts up, she insists. “Nothing else happened?” she curiously asks. “Like… between us? Something significant, maybe?”

“Do you remember something?” he’s suddenly suspicious of her very specific questions.

“No, I’m just… curious,” she lies – or is it a lie? She’s not  _ sure _ what she saw during her therapy is a  _ real _ memory and not something her mind made up completely. “I don’t know, cruises can be romantic…”

“Well, since you’re the one bringing that up,” Jake eventually chooses to spill the whole truth. “It’s on that cruise we told each other that… we loved each other for the first time,” he confesses, heart beating fast in his chest at the memory and a bit afraid of how she’s going to react to this.

“Oh… okay, thanks,” she remains oddly calm, and he can’t read her – is that a good reaction from her, or not? Is it the calm before the storm, when she’ll freak out again? What does all this mean, too?

He wants to ask her, but doesn’t dare so. Doesn’t want to push her. If she doesn’t want to talk… then he won’t force her. He just hopes he gave her the information she needed.

“I’m sorry, I gotta finish to get ready, otherwise I’ll be running late,” she then adds, gathering her plate to put it in the dishwasher, suddenly changing topics, unable to watch him in the eye anymore.

_ There it is. _

“What’re you doing?” he instantly replies, curious – and a bit scared, also. Scared that she’s meeting with Teddy. Even though he would have no right not to let her go. Just like he can’t really ask her about her plans anymore – she can tell him if she wants, but he doesn’t want he to feel forced to share. So he quickly corrects himself, “Sorry. Obviously you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“That’s okay,” she smiles, a reassuring smile, finally watching him again. “I’m meeting with Kylie.”

He can’t hide his relieved sigh. “Have fun, then,” he tells her.

“Yeah, thanks. See you tonight?”

“See you tonight,” he repeats, and watches her hurry away, the picture still in his hands.

Still confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet another of my beloved characters from another show in this chapter: Dr. Linda Martin, my sweet therapist from Lucifer!
> 
> And in the next... maybe it'll be time to meet my OTP as well haha (yes, there's another couple I love more than Peraltiago – only just a bit more, though).


End file.
